Yearly Archives: 2003

The Modern Grushnitsky

Let’s see…what’s on the hate plate today?

I hate it when peo­ple, sequa­cious, super­fi­cial, pre­ten­tious, igno­rant peo­ple express false emo­tions. I hate it when peo­ple feign the extent to which their emo­tions take over them, for what­ev­er rea­son. This is all ESPECIALLY true when the per­son hap­pens to be my age or old­er.

I sup­pose I’m over­sen­si­tive to things like this. I see fake emo­tions almost as a mock­ery of any true ones that I have. I hold my emo­tions as an impor­tant part of my life, and try to expe­ri­ence each one with grav­i­ty and appre­cia­tive­ness. It’s rare that I can be affect­ed by things so much that my emo­tions take over me, so I don’t take hap­pi­ness or sad­ness light­ly, espe­cial­ly when some­one else pre­tends to expe­ri­ence them. I’ve lived too long as an unfeel­ing being, as some­one who cared for noth­ing, to have some idiot pre­tend to appre­ci­ate what has become an essen­tial part of my life.

Some peo­ple nev­er grow up.

Restless Summer Days

It’s near the end of the sum­mer and I feel rest­less. I want to do every­thing and noth­ing. I want to make a clan page, apply to jobs, get my cam­era fixed, play some games, exer­cise, watch movies, but am too lack­adaisi­cal to do any­thing. I sit around my apart­ment, rest­less, nev­er sure.

Modesty?

Sometimes I hear some peo­ple described in a not-so-com­pli­men­ta­ry way. Some of the descrip­tions are much worse than oth­ers, but there are ones which always stick out in my mind. Things such as “creepy”, “igno­rant”, “des­per­ate”, “arro­gant”, “obnox­ious”, “unre­li­able”, or “rib­ald” are the last things I would want to be described as, and these have stuck with me ever since I gained cere­bral con­scious­ness.

However, I real­ized recent­ly that it would both­er me if some­one thought of me as a per­son who fish­es for com­pli­ments. I sup­pose that if there was some truth to this fact it would­n’t both­er me so much. Of course, I might in actu­al­i­ty be unaware of any false, inse­cure actions I may be per­form­ing, being a gen­er­al­ly inse­cure per­son in the first place.

I’m not sure why some­thing like this would both­er me so much, as opposed to some­one telling me that I’m untrust­wor­thy. Of course, some­times the fault of believ­ing that some­one is untrust­wor­thy lies in as much as the fault­er as the fault­ee. After all, a thief sus­pects a thief.

Perhaps peo­ple mis­take my attempt at mod­esty as false mod­esty. Modesty is such an impor­tant thing for me that per­haps I over stress it and it ends up back­fir­ing.

I guess the only way I’ll find out what I’m real­ly like is if some­one I trust were to tell me.

Reclaiming The Iron Bar

I was rid­ing the bus this morn­ing, com­ing back from St. Laurent when all the peo­ple are return­ing from their social lunch breaks. Traveling west, the bus­es fill up quick­ly and I was forced to stand near the back, hold­ing onto my yel­low pole like a ter­ri­to­r­i­al strip­per lest I be forced away from door by the crush­es of peo­ple. I had secured my loca­tion until the stop before the one I want­ed to get off. Just as the doors were clos­ing, a male with a very tough, apa­thet­ic face squeezed through and decid­ed to lean on my pole. His back squashed my fin­gers against the met­al bar as he decid­ed to lean instead of hold­ing on. I gen­er­al­ly can’t stand lis­ten­ing to peo­ple on the bus, let alone share body heat with them, so I prompt­ly let go and grabbed a hang­ing loop instead. I could­n’t tell if he was aware that he sup­plant­ed me, but I became annoyed at the fact that some­one could sim­ply get his way just by being igno­rant or apa­thet­ic.

I decid­ed to reclaim my iron bar, by grab­bing it once again and touch­ing his back in a sex­u­al man­ner with my fin­gers. I want­ed to test this tough male in how com­fort­able he was with his sex­u­al­i­ty, to make him as uncom­fort­able as he had made me, and to claim the iron bar as my own. As I grabbed the bar, the doors of the bus swung open. I had reached my stop with­out real­iz­ing.