A lot of people who are supposedly very close to me really don't "get" me, and while I shouldn't, I do fault them for it. I'm not hard to read - in fact, I'm right here, laid out about as bare as one person can be, with my heart bleeding all over my sleeve. It pisses me off when these folks claim to know what's going on in my head and why I behave in the manner that I do.
This has nothing to do with the aforementioned long lost friends - I don't see them often, but they know me better than anyone on the planet, and they always have. They know when I'm headed in the right direction and they know when I'm full of shit - and, luckily for me, they have no problem pointing it out to me. Bailed me out (no, not out of jail!) more times than I can count.
But some people who claim to be my friend and claim to mean well are in reality full of stuff far worse than shit - twisting my words, actions, and feelings to their own twisted ends. You wanna twist my words? Fine. You wanna claim to know the intentions behind this or that action? Alright. You wanna twist my feelings to make yourself feel better about your fucked up little world? No beans motherfucker. No, I'm not gonna hurt you or even hold it against you, because who the hell has time for that? Not me. I'm simply going to forget you exist - and that's your fucking problem. And why is it your problem? Because I'm an awesome fucking person who has more REAL LOVE to give than most people dare dream of, and I'm am not afraid to give it. Not. Even. A Little.
I hate to sound like I hold my friends to abnormally high standards, or that truly being my friend is some sort of great privilege - like belonging to some elite club -because that's not it. I have friends all over the place - all over my immediate area, my home state, the country, all over the planet, and even in cyberspace - that I would literally bend over backwards for - simply because I CARE.
I don't claim to be perfect. I openly admit to having fucked over some people that didn't deserve what they got from me. I've fucked up, I've been wrong. Yeah, I've been bad. The difference is that I will say that I've done wrong, and I will tell you that I'm truly sorry, rather than twist around whatever you did or felt to make it look like I wasn't so bad. Because even though I've done wrong, I likely respect you enough to give you the truth.
If you're a friend of mine that reads this - be it an in-person friend, a person a million miles away, or one of my fine feathered internet friends - do me the favor of telling me if I've done something wrong. If I've made you uncomfortable, if I've screwed you over, or if I just plain neglected to do the right thing - do me the favor and call me out. You don't owe me that, but it would likely be in our mutual best interest
I never intended this blog to be for this sort of stuff, but if not here, then where? This shit comes out of me whenever I listen to Khanate's final album - the grand opus Clean Hands Go Foul. Somehow that record, and particularly Alan Dubin's agonizing vocals, bring me back to center on these things that keep me awake at night. And it fucking ROCKS, slow and mean. Those guys are sorely missed.
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I have a huge number of acquaintances, but I, also, am very choosy about whom I will call a friend. Once you're in, you're in, and I will drive a thousand miles, fly across an ocean, do whatever I need to do for you if you truly need it. So yeah, I have pretty high standards for friendship, too. And there's nothing wrong with that.
ReplyDeleteIt's true, Khanate is like Ipecac for bad feelings.
ReplyDeleteAnyway, I obviously don't know you to any great degree, other than our ridiculously overlapping musical tastes, but you've always come across as calm, sensible, upstanding, passionate fellow. And then I check out your blog and as I read I start to wonder if you're somehow me from 10 years in the future...
I guess you really can tell something about people from the music they listen to, because try as I might I also really find it really hard to find people who "get me". I don't know if I'm drawn to the music because of alienation, or just feeling some connection to the artists, but it's probably no coincidence that the people I don't connect with on a philisophical or personal level, these same people also don't seem to be able to fathom my musical taste. Where something is beautiful to me, it seems abstract and alien to them. Where something is fun and catchy for them, I find myself repulsed.
I guess on some level I believe some people are destined to be misunderstood, misinterpreted, because their sensibilities don't quite tie up well with the average, but I'm coming to terms with it and realising that even the shared love of a TV show, or a piece of music, or a painting, suggests there is some genuine commonality that can be shared.
Probably my oldest friend, is a guy whose personality when we were growing up seemed entirely the opposite of mine. But as we're getting older, I only speak to him on MSN and suddenly I realise we're enjoying the same TV shows and movies, though not the same music. And through that shared enjoyment, I realise now the areas that we understand each other. Morally, socially, we're very similar. Creatively, philsophically, not really. I think, in the 18 years I've known him we've never really had a major argument.
Anyway, sorry to leave a gigantic rambling comment about me here, but you know. Just thought it was spooky seeing you describe some of the feelings I go through.
I've always held to the idea that people listen to particular pieces of music for a reason, or rather, reasonS. All people that listen to and enjoy Khanate, for example, have a least one thing, which may or may not be a very small thing, in common, and that thing is what has brought them to Khanate in the first place. It may be a specific thing - it may be a VERY general, almost theoretical thing. But there is something there. I generally accept this to be true about music that functions as art, because while artistic music that is actually expressing something is also marketed, its not marketed as a product as much as a pop record.
ReplyDeleteYes, I came to grips with the fact that I'm going to be misunderstoood quite a bit, because, as you say, my sensibilities don't tie up well with the average. Sometimes I still fall into the trap of expecting more from certain people; perhaps that's my own fault.
Your comment, gildermershina, has given me much to think about, and I deeply appreciate it. No need to apologize, obviously. I'm glad you got something out of it, but I should also point out that when I was ten years younger than I am now, I thought I would be a much different person than the person(s) I turned out to be.
...and Becca,
ReplyDeleteThanks for your comment as well. You never fail to either a) make me crack the hell up, or b) give me something to think about.
And after reflection (yeah I do quite a bit of that when my children will allow it) you're right - there is nothing wrong with holding people to high standards when the word "friend" is involved. To me, there seems something very self-serving to such a practice, but that is half the point, after all.
I shudder to think what my musical and film tastes say about me. Probably what is obvious; that I am simultaneously goofy and happy while being dark and twisted at my core.
ReplyDeleteIdeally, I like to think about stuff WHILE cracking the hell up. Cause that's how I roll.