Arrogance. I hate it.
It’s up there with being smug, which is why I can’t watch QI as it’s just a smug-fest. Big smug faces being smug. The audience laughter isn’t them laughing at the jokes on the show. It’s them laughing at YOU because you just could never be that funny, ever, and it’s just a big bukkake of smug.
I’m not hating on anyone who does, but fuck me in my humbley opinioned opinion, it’s smug. If I see Rob Brydon relax in his chair and do an impression then the TV is going out the window. Or I’ll do an Elvis.
I kind of link them together. Neither trait is attractive and if you smell a bit of it in someone it changes what you think about them. Especially if it’s born out of a need to feel loved or adored.
I guess, as a blogger I say things and talk about subjects which are common and understood but I’d hope that it’s not born out of a need to be loved or adored. None of it is to play to an audience. None of it is to make anyone think I’m something I’m not. I’ve always been vair honest about my depression and my feelings and always will. My blog posts are me shitting out my feelings and thoughts. For good or bad.
Fuck me. This post is going nowhere. But, I’ll carry on as I can write what I want.
I was recently called arrogant. Dunno what I said, or how but this word dinged in my brain. Am I? Am I actually Rob Brydon doing a Ronnie Corbet impersonation while trying to be witty, while all around get bathed in a spunkbath of giggles?
And if I am, then why doesn’t someone punch me? I’d rather take a punch than be called arrogant.
I’m a complex person, apparently, and I’ve been through a lot of arse, but we all do that. The arse thing rather than the complex thing. I’ve never been through an arse, apart from that once, but complex isn’t a word I’d chose to describe me. Someone did, 15 years ago and it’s always stuck. And it’s been on my mind of late.
Am I complex? Or am I just me?
Or am I arrogant. Or does my complexity make me arrogant? Or what?
I have an emptiness inside of me just now which comes from losing a lot. I know I need to think positively but the voices of those around me who have supported me are now turning into echoes.
I know I need to think differently. I know I need to arrange fruit into a cock-and-balls shape more often just for a laugh. In Sainsburys.
I don’t think I’m complex. I think I’m just me and, like all people, we don’t always function at the full floom sometimes, but on a 60/40 ratio I’m quite happy being me. But if others see me as complex then what am I to say?
I’m not. I’m really not. I’m really simple. I want the same things as you and I want to love. I want to feel love and I want respect for all my honesty and knobbly bits. All the things I am make me who I am. And actually, I’m alright.
Or is that arrogant? Or too complex for someone else to understand?
Perhaps I am complex. Sometimes the simplest things are difficult to achieve.
Or perhaps that’s too complex to understand. Born out of arrogance.
Thanks for reading.