Is It Apathy or a Breakthrough?

It's easy to get overwhelmed. It's easy to feel picked on.

It's easy to fall into the trap of feeling under-appreciated, and see the proof everywhere. That can become a self perpetuating cycle wherein the world constantly proves to you, the eager to believe pupil, that it Just Doesn't Give A Shit.

Because as we all know, if you are looking for disappointment, you will always be successful in your hunt.

But what about when you array the evidence before you, and the pattern becomes overwhelmingly negative? What if the message is writ both large and small, from the casual exchanges to the heart-rending confessionals--You Suck.

You're a bitch, an asshole, a jerk. The theme manifests not just in what people say, but in how they act. Wonder why nobody is there for you? Why is it so easy for people to ignore your needs? Why do you try so hard for others but your efforts don't seem to be reciprocated? Why do you feel apart, to the side, back (and to the left)?

Well, maybe it's because people are ditching you because they don't feel compelled to waste their time on an asshole. Maybe it's common knowledge among any group of people that hangs around you. The cost benefit analyses are in, and you just aren't worth the time.

Pile high the list of examples of how the world done you wrong, how the people you love don't love you back, how you've been used, been discarded, ignored, blah blah suffercakes. Perhaps it's not a failure on your part to communicate how truly sensitive you are--maybe everybody knows and they just don't care.

Maybe when you open yourself up to brutal honesty, in your never ending quest for self improvement and enlightenment, the reason people only seem to approach you with negative reports is because you're a piece of shit.

What if there isn't much nice to say?

And if all of this is true, what does it mean if you start to entertain this premise and find that you might not even care? Is this the moment of True Asshole Realization, wherein an Asshole can finally achieve his/her true potential. Gone is the pointless quest for self improvement. Gone the clinging to moral and ethical standards that no one cared about coming from an Asshole. Gone the annoying whining and morose moping over "miscommunications" and "misunderstanding."

Perhaps if an Asshole accepts their inherent jerktitude, that cannot be overcome even by a lifetime of effort, they can finally relax.

No more struggling with the people you know who misunderstand you--they are right: you're just an asshole. They've been telling you for years that you are mean, nasty, hostile, whatever---that you Don't Fit In and That What You Did Was Wrong and that Whatever You Are Going To Do Will Be Wrong Too. And now you know why---you're just a Natural Dick.

The transition may be a little rough on some people, especially if they were used to being able to impose on your artificial niceness. But since most of them have been treating like an Asshole in one way or another for years anyways, it's smooth sailing from here on out.

You know, I started this post pretty seriously. But look at how I finished. Gee, I wonder how that could have happened. . .

What I don't know, continue to not know, is whether a lack of response to formerly upsetting incidents is a good sign or a bad sign. The Universe and its denizens sends out the evening message of: We Still Hate Your Ass, Sucko. You shrug, even start to maybe get upset. You are gonna send the Universe an email!

Then. . . you shrug again. Maybe you sigh. You start thinking about some crap you have to do tomorrow, how awful the movie on tv is, etc.

It's that moment that they write koans about. You are the turtle on the water planet, head breaching the surface, and yet again you have not risen within the confines of the floating ox-bow. The thoughts slip away. You hold on to nothing. You're like Jon Snow with knowledge.

And the person/situation that hurt your feelings? Spiraling back down, maybe somewhere beneath the turtle on that planet of water. Not your favorite person at the moment. Probably get mad if you think about it much more. But for now--you can almost feel your mind take the shape of a weary old woman at a kitchen counter, hand to the small of her back, shoulders stooped--not now, not now.

So is that growing up? Growing past? Moving on? Getting better?

Or is it just getting wearier?