The young Asian boy slacked over the rowing machine, he know understood what it felt like to hate something so much that it physically burned, in his lungs. If he was honest with himself he wasn’t really trying, he had already decided that he would do badly and thus it had appeared on the numbers that constantly changed on the digital screen in front of him.
I started off with a story because I just got that weird short term memory loss thing you get whenever you go through a doorway, or when you actually need to do something, or when you just wake up and forget everything you were thinking the night before. I had some post planned that basically described my life succinctly and could encapsulate everything and teach everyone the real meaning of Christmas. I feel as if I have a lot of these, posts that would save the world (and christmas) but I keep forgetting them, perhaps I’ve never had one of those and im just a mediocre blogger (I’m devastated).
The opinions of others will be today’s blog post, Redbeard just beckoned inside my ear the prophecy of Jen. Jen is an LA club promoter, Jen is old and ugly, Jen is a horrible person (to all my fans called Jen I am deeply sorry) Jen shouts at shorties trying to get into the club telling them they are worthless. Shorties cry, other women are inspired to try and get into the club because Jen only shouts at ugly girls and if they get in they are proven to be pretty girls.
Jen is clever.
Be like Jen (I’m sorry for that ending, truly).
Now there’s a lovely way to interpret this story so it covers everything from social proof, to alpha female culture and the origin of the word “shorty” but that’s for another day. Today is the day we see why hoes cry when Jen calls them fat.
Honestly I feel like people value the opinion of other people way too much, I read some quote once about that, I think someone smart said it (by virtue I hope I am therefore smart).I’ve seen people chase, attack and chastise people in order to achieve some words of encouragement. We’ve started valuing the opinions of others over our own. Perhaps we’re fearful of being wrong, of the public humiliation associated with this grievous ‘sin’. My own personal theory is that we’re told not to value ourselves to highly, that quote about people being fearful that they are powerful beyond measure comes to mind. I honestly believe that as a child I was conditioned to not trust myself, to count my own opinions as second rate (particularly to my father) and this resulted in this strange need for reassurance from other people that I’m doing the right thing.
This weird form of low self confidence (perhaps not self confidence, more of a feeling of one’s own worth) happened when I was asked to talk about cool things that had happened in my life. I couldn’t think of anything, I didn’t think that I had done anything fun, ps I had.
I’ve compensated a little too much and gone onto the side of overarching arrogance but honestly it’s preferable to my old self – I think.