Thursday, April 29, 2010

Buttercup

I don't know why it takes so much less effort to break me down than it does to build me up. One comment, probably a joke, about my company making him sick, and all of a sudden it doesn't seem like we can get along after all. Maybe he should have thought of that before... well, before. Sooner or later I'm likely to actually hit him. I've already started the verbal assault. I've already taken one low blow. I doubt I'll ever land the one that could drop him to the floor. The one that's a little kamikaze, because it would drop me too. Let everyone know what I'm capable of.

Why is it that while I have no problem logically dealing with the way people are on a large scale, once you get to the small scale, the microhumanity, I have a seemingly endless supply of good will and benefit of the doubt. I know that people aren't the way I wish they were, I know communism or anarchy won't work because people mostly suck. So why is it that I can still with complete confidence pin huge amounts of emotional capital on people being the way I wish they could be on the small scale? Possible theories include being an overly optimistic nut, being too stupid for my own good, not being able to learn my lesson, or some combination of the previous possibilities.

Dreaming of amazing wonderful people.
Daydream Believer

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