The Man Nipples of Conversation

You  can discover more about a person in an hour of play than in a year of  conversation. – Plato

Someone once told me that in order to be somewhat happy, you need to be your own biggest fan. If you don’t root for yourself, then why the hell would someone else root for you. I took that to heart. Sure, when I was younger it came across as narcissistic, self-importance. And, yeah, maybe some of that was. But as the maturation process continues to develop and mold me in to the “individual” that I am today, I have learned to listen and accept criticism in my daily life.

I’m good enough. I’m smart enough. But, dog gone it, nobody likes me. That is the reality I live with. There are a select few who will put up with my indulgent tendencies long enough to know that I can conceivably care about other feelings than my own. Aside from people being forced to spend time with me at work, I can only think of a few people who have been willing to bear the bullshit I produce to get to know me. The list is short, which is okay. I can mostly socialize with anyone. Anyone cannot mostly socialize with me, however.

I cannot do small talk. I can’t, I won’t, I don’t. It is bizarre to me that people talk about the weather. We both literally just had the same experience. It is not like a car accident or presidential debate in which people recant different accounts of an objective human experience. If it is raining outside, it is raining. If it is warm outside, it is warm. If it is windy, the wind was blowing. Not sure the need to verbalize that to someone else who was (or in some cases is) in the same weather. I can handle silence. The majority of the time I am watching my personal picture show, anyway.

My favorite hair cutter people are the ones that don’t need to ask me about work. Outside of people in sports, movies, writing or maybe porn, I can’t imagine anyone ever wanting to openly discuss what they do. The majority of Americans are working at a dead-end job in the pursuit of the American dream. They will stay at that job to fuel their CEO’s dream of being in the 1%. After digression, it is clear that talking about work to fill the void of uncomfortable silence serves no purpose. It is the man nipples of conversation.

I know that it sounds like I am bitter man with nothing to talk about, or no willingness to grab my ankles for conversing’s sake, but I’m not. I am somewhat happy. I followed the advice. I am my own biggest fan, and it is not entirely selfish. Okay, it is horribly selfish, but it is harmless. I tell jokes that make me laugh. They may be offensive to others, but if they make me laugh, that is all that matters. This is the key to being somewhat happy. Make your self laugh.

This doesn’t have to be jokes, either. It doesn’t even have to be malicious. If you fall flat on your face, laugh before someone else does. You know they want to. You know it was funny. It will make you feel better. Pose in every picture you ever take. I have a certain pose and I hit it with amazing frequency. You will smile every time you see the picture. Listen to songs that make you happy. Don’t play the top 20 just because people expect it. Play the 20 songs that you love and maybe someone else can appreciate it. You will feel better. You will laugh also when you catch some people’s reaction when you play Rammstein after Fun.

The last thing came with maturity. I can listen and accept criticism and advice a lot better than I did, but I can also now offer it, and for the right reasons. Whether it be to Laura, my mommy, the kids, family, friends and the like, I have been comfortable opening up more. I am nowhere near what an extroverted “individual” is but I can do it now. So, for those of you reading this brush your teeth. You know your mouth smells disgusting.

Please to enjoy.

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