Plasticities

I keep saying I want to be with someone who’s kinder and smarter than I am, but it just gives me license to do less with my self. I’ve gone back on my notes here, and the first one was based on Miranda July’s “Are you anyone’s favorite person?” I know I’m not, and I can’t blame anyone for not having me as a favorite person, but I’d like to be worth the title and it definitely means not being a butthead.

Being loud and obnoxious intimidates people. Remember when you enjoyed being intimidating? High school was fun. Loud and obnoxious however does not stand-in for being worth anyone’s while, it also makes you a “butthead,” apparently, which I’ve been called on several occassions. Sometimes I’m not even sure if this is out of genuine affection.

I’d like to lose the whole “butthead” tag, because who gets called a butthead at 24, really?

In fact it’s turned into some kind of crutch for a lack of actual personality. I don’t want to eventually adopt all the other obnoxious butthead traits, like being proud of my alleged buttheadedness. I get that the label comes from pissing people off by telling them exactly what I think of them, to their faces. But these are usually the same people who complain about being plastic. And I’m not braindead, I don’t mouth off without considering what it could do to you. You know who you are. Make up your minds.

Yet, I still prefer what your ilk call “butthead” to passive-aggression. If you need to get along, it usually means confronting your problems with people. I hate passive-aggression. I prefer the kind of relationship where we tear at each other’s egos out of an honest need for self-assessment, rather than those silly get-togethers where we talk about whoever isn’t there, or dealing cheap shots on facebook and twitter.

The only times I feel the need to say “You know who you are” are,
1) …when I care about people too much to embarrass them.
2) …when I’m/you’re too busy for face-to-face confrontation.
3) …when I don’t know your email address.

And really, it’s not random word vomit when I tell you what I think of you. It’s not something I do because I want to hurt you and I think our friendship is worth the compromise (then again, how mature are you to drop me as a friend for telling you to sack up?). I would not actually rather be feared than loved, and I don’t enjoy fighting because it requires a lot of energy I don’t have and it means allotting space for thoughts I don’t need.

This is not out of righteousness. I don’t think I’m better than anyone here, and I’d really appreciate being told off as well.