Let’s take another stab at making myself aware of the effect I have on people.
It’s a very tricky thing for anyone to contemplate because it’s so intricately tied with our core sense of self that can feel like an eye look at itself.
But enough stalling. Let’s make the incision and see what we find.
I know my effect on people is strong. I’ll own that right away. I used to hide behind a cloak of negative self-worth and tell myself that nobody ever pays any attention to me, they barely even notice me, and so on.
But that was a cheap dodge used to avoid having to take responsibility for my powers.
There’s a lot of freedom in powerlessness. Even helplessness. Some people would rather remain impotent than have to be responsible for their actions.
I’ve been one of those people. Sigh.
So yeah, I can have a pretty strong effect on people. After all, I’m quite unique. Charismatic and strange and witty and warm and wild. I see things from a very unusual perspective and that means talking to me can be quite eye-opening as I share my deep insights into the world and life, wacky one moment, then serious, then strident, then sarcastic, then whatever moves me next.
I don’t see myself as chaotic and unpredictable. But then again, I’m the eye of the storm, aren’t I?
The more positive interpretation is that I’m interesting. Fascinating, even. You never know what I am going to say and that makes me a great conversationalist.
Especially when you add in my almost hypnotic charm. It draws people in.
But I am not for everybody. I can be quite overwhelming. I am much too much for some. Others just find my wacky charms irritating.
Victims of a sad disorder known as “being a boring old grumpy-pants”.
And I can also be quite frustrating with my general cluelessness and lack of awareness of my environment and general clumsiness.
It’s a good thing I’m cute. That’s all I am saying.
And often people just get tired of the show. Being my audience can be exhausting. I love to shine bright for people and that can be great for a while but at some point, some people just want to turn off the light and get some sleep.
Then there’s my lack of self-care, which can be quite horrifying to be around.
I am quite the mixed bag.
Overall, I think my effect on people can be quite pleasant if the target and I can get past my initial shyness and awkwardness.
I need to stay aware of my capacity to captivate and enchant people. I do my best to keep people at arm’s length.
Perhaps I take that too far. I can be hard to get close to, which is especially heartbreaking when I attract people like I do.
Let the right one in, as the movie says. Don’t be a siren, luring people in only to have them get dashed to pieces on my rocks.
That said, all any of us can be is ourselves. And I am a shiny, shiny star.
Those sailors will just have to look after themselves.
More after the break.
Letting the bubble burst
Finally I am….
Letting the bubble burst
Letting the curtain fall
Letting my spirit grow
Tired of being small
Letting the sunset end
Letting the dawn begin
Letting the logic fail
Inviting my feelings in
Letting the iceberg melt
Letting the costume fall
Letting the demons die
Not going to mourn at all
Letting the flood begin
Letting the teardrops flow
Letting the bushel burn
Now everyone sees me glow
Letting my spirit soar
Letting the sparkles fly
Never been here before
Might wanna shield your eyes
Letting my north star rise
High into darkest night
Finally riding high
Things will finally be… all right.
Some of that could become a song, I suppose. In a musical.
One with rabbits. And shiny costumes.
Rabbits In Space : The Musical.
I think I get why whenever I imagine myself cleaning, I’m also crying.
It’s not particularly flattering.
But I think a part of me is still waiting for the rescue, comfort, and nurturing that I never got as a child and that my developmental timeline insists is due.
And if I am cleaning up after myself, obviously that means I haven given up on this magical rescue every happening, and so I am crying like a baby.
A baby left to cry.
Clearly, realistically, that magical rescue ain’t ever going to happen and so logically I would be far better off accepting that and moving on.
It’s as easy as 1-2-3!
- Rip out your heart
- Set it on fire
- Stomp out the flames
Nobody is coming. So there is no point in remaining helpless and clueless in order to attract a nurturer. Nobody ever is going to pick me up and wipe away my tears and hold me close while telling me everything’s going to be fine now, you’re here, you’re home.
Everything is going to be warm and good and loving again.
You won’t be left out in the cold any more.
You can come home to stay.
I can tell it to myself. I might even believe it for a while if I can keep the hounds of my self-loathing from ripping that lovely dream apart.
Bad doggies. No dream biscuits for you!
I try to be my own good parent. But you need to have that inside you first, I think.
Right now I feel like I am just barely strong enough to at least think about it.
But I am not cut out for being two people at the same time.
I’m just no good at multitasking!
But there is room in me for self-love somewhere. After all, I am a lovable guy. If I was someone else, I would be extremely sympathetic to my plight.
Instead, I’m just pathetic. Ha ha.
Time to sleep. Wake me when I’m a real grownup.
I will talk to your nice people again tomorrow.