The Lone Wolf

Trigger Warnings – Mentions of death and loss

Hello again folks, nice to see my blog still did pretty well even in spite of my absence yesterday at this time, the party was fine by the way if you read my post yesterday. Well tonight’s post is another personal one, which I realise the ratio is tilting towards being more in favour of personal posts than political or whatever but this is my blog, my rules and I really just want to get things out there. Incidentally, sometimes people do ask how I can feel so comfortable telling the whole world how I feel about my personal life but truth be told, it’s more for my benefit than the audience, I can’t always be satisfied just wittering away to myself in a corner, I need a human response to what I’m feeling so I figure if I shoot enough arrows, one hits a target, if that makes sense?

Moving swiftly on, no doubt you’re wondering what’s on my mind then? I hope you are. I want to talk about my nature as a person, as I am now, and my disconnect with people around me. By now it is no secret that in my younger days I was not a friendly person, I liked myself a lot and maybe a few other people but for the most part I went out of my way to exude this frightening presence that told people not to approach me, my dress sense revolving around covering as much of myself up as possible in black leather and spikes, a bandana around my face and a wide brimmed hat on my head, even my hands were not visible under two gauntlets. In my full attire, only my eyeline was visible to the world, two fierce golden beads peering out with rage at everything and I barely spoke to anyone about anything. You see a part of being young is angst and identity issues and trying on lots of different looks to find an identity you think people will like until you realise it doesn’t matter and then you find your true self, well the dark demonic look for me was something I liked and something that gained me the response I wanted – respect out of fear and respect out of awe. For the most part, my attire gained three different responses:

1. “Ah! My god, you look like a demon! That’s frightening!”

2. “Wow, look at that guy, that is fucking bad ass!”

3. “Look at him, what a weirdo… there must be something wrong with him…”

I embraced all of these responses, even the third, to laugh at those people and welcome their prying eyes. I went out of my way to be as eccentric and jarring as possible to expose the judgmental nature of all my peers so I could tear them down and feel righteous in doing so. I wanted people to hate me and fear me because that made me feel powerful and soon enough I had a reputation as being some sort of monster in human guise, the “fucking sicko”, the “psycho”, to me it validated me as some sort of lord of darkness and further emphasised this romantic loneliness to who I was which fuelled some awful bleak poetry (You know the kind, it’s nothing but death/heartbreak metaphors from start to finish and usually talks a lot about blood and it’s supposed to be tragic but instead it makes you cringe). I was unbeaten in a fight, feared by all and an oppressed minority in my school because there was so many ‘normal’ people and only one me without a true match in all the school, there wasn’t a rocker clique for me to join or a leather-wearing badasses society, there was some goths and emo kids sure but I didn’t fit in with them either, I was me, I was the lone wolf, I was tragic and romantic and that made me feel like my entire life story would one day be a touching novel or heartbreaking play as I rose to greatness over them all and laughed from my lofty heights at their insignificant efforts to break me

So what happened? I noticed the consequences of my actions, I knew I could not always be Mr. Hard Nut because if you devote your life to having the loudest bark, your life is under the constant threat of meeting someone louder who pisses on your corpse just for trying it on. I suppose it hit home for me when my selfishness started costing me people I wanted in my life, when those around me had to struggle so badly not to give up on me altogether because despite it all, I did have a heart and underneath all that blackness was an inherently kind guy trying to get out, he was just a slave to the demon of his rage. I suffered a lot of loss growing up and it made me angry, I wanted the world to burn and cry and lose because I had done, I wanted revenge on God, I wanted everyone to feel as shit as I did until I took some time to stop, think and change. Why? Why make the world suffer? What would that fix? I would only be remembered as a harbinger of hatred, a bringer of chaos, the biggest bastard in the world and that was not the legacy I wanted to leave and despite what I am now, there are those out there who see my name and think only of the word cunt. I wanted to be called honourable, to be remembered as a lover and a fighter, not just a fighter. I then decided “If I live my life feeling awful, why not devote myself instead to making sure people don’t have to feel like I do, rather than making everyone feel like I do?”

See, as an atheist and a man of science, I do not believe in an afterlife and my concept of the immortal soul is instead that of the legacy we live, the stories of us that people tell long after we’re gone and whilst death is still tragic, I believe in life, in the significance of our actions whilst we were are here. No rewards await us, we must claim them in life. I believe all of us are, at our core, lonely people and life is a hard and horrid thing that we make better by being good people. Pick up some rubbish, talk to someone who is upset, let someone go in front of you in a queue, just do something, some little thing, because why not? Don’t worry about the whole world, just one good deed every once in a while because, maybe it’s not true of you, but seeing people be as horrid as I once was makes me feel bad myself, I see these people and see that version of myself staring back at me. I pick up a lot of other people’s rubbish, I’ve actually caught three people in the act and just taken it out of their hand and wandered off without another word, just because. I sigh and huff but I’d feel worse not doing anything. I know this sounds childish and maybe makes me come across as some sort of beatnik hippy “Love everybody maaaaaaan” kinda guy but I just think, I spent eight years of my life, from losing my mother to leaving school, dedicating myself to scorn and greed and I did that much damage, a whole world on that principle is a horrible thing

I’m not perfect, I am prone to selfishness or dickish moves on my part, sometimes my laidback nature can lead me to just think “Oh fuck it, they can just hate me for this” and I’ll do something or not do something for whatever reason suits me but I like to think I’m a better man than I was and that I’ve made a meaningful impact upon the world around me so that, God forbid, if something ever did happen to me, my eulogy wouldn’t be about how I was misunderstood and impulsive and full of sorrow but instead it would be about how I tried my hardest to be a man of love and honour, a good man who would be missed and that maybe someone out there, someone who knew me well, would remember what I tried to do and carry it on, not out of obligation to a dead man’s legacy but because it was a good lesson to learn in life

Apologies if this is a dark post, it’s been on my mind as I look at my reflection each night and truth be told, it’s one of my weirdest fears is actually what I leave behind. Morbid for a man only just approaching twenty but when you don’t believe in getting what you deserve after you die, death can be a subject you mull over at any given point just as it crosses your mind, which can be a lot of the time if you have a particularly large mind

Advertisements

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s