Journal Entry 2-26-17

Susumu Hirasawa – Yume no Shima Shinen Kouen [Paranoia Agent Remix].

I only recall two phrases my grandmother commonly repeated to me: “Be pleasant and distant” and “It’s important that you can laugh at yourself.” The latter phrase, she would often say when I laughed at my own mistakes; if I recall, she said it in a sortof distant fascination of me. The former, she said a few times in her later years, offhandedly.

Whether those were the only phrases I remember, or they were the only words of wisdom she had, I don’t know. What I know is they are exceedingly applicable to my situation. “Be pleasant and distant” was her advice on dealing with people; at this point, it is my only option, unless I feel like launching years-long campaigns for hearts and minds not worth the effort.

I wonder if she knew the depth of wisdom in these phrases, but then I recall something she once asked me, in her later years – seemingly in complete sobriety and seriousness: “Are you human?” What she meant by this, I do not know. She seemed a privately religious woman: she did not go to church, she did not talk about religion, but every now and then she’d let slip a comment that implied faith – so she may have been superstitious.

So, how can I interpret the comment? She knew me from birth, our only being separated for.. maybe 7 out of 22 years. Yet, in a seemingly sober state, and seemingly completely serious, she asked me if I was human. What could cause her, after all those years, to ask such an absurd question? I recall nothing in the time surrounding that question to suggest her being mentally unstable.

Though a warm woman, she was private, so I did not gather a great deal about her life before me. What she did share often involved misfortune and unpleasantness, which she mentioned somewhat angrily when proving a point. After her shrouded early life, she had.. perhaps 2 crib-deaths and 6 miscarriages, then her [first and only] husband was lost at sea, leaving her to raise their three children, and later myself, alone. Her heart was also broken by my sociopathic druggie whore mother, and my uncle who is a low-grade sociopath.

The point is: she had allot of heartache, misfortune, and disappointment. And though I let her down and lied to her on occasion, our overall life together was very happy. She was happy when I was happy, and because of that, I was happy when she was happy, and ashamed when I disappointed her – so I tried to make her happy.

Yet she asked me if I was human. I’ve come to two likely explanations. First possibility: she suspected I was an angel. I say this because, again, she was seemingly privately religious, and I detected no signs of temporary or consistent mental instability. Perhaps, with her taxing and unfortunate life filled with selfish people, she couldn’t imagine any other reason I would desire to benefit her. Another factor for her possible perspective may have been the uncommon intelligence and maturity I claim to possess.

Second possibility: she was testing me, to see if I’d respond irrationally. However, my response to her was: “I don’t understand the question; are you asking me if I’m crazy enough to think I’m not human?” Her response was a seemingly uncomfortable silence, so I changed the subject. She may well have been simply testing me, but I think her question was genuine. And I don’t recall being especially crazy myself, at the time – which might warrant her asking me thusly.

I find it horrifying how people covet strength, and fear their weaknesses, while having no idea that strength is isolating in this era. Were they as strong as they wished to be, they might prefer weakness: there’s always enough people, whom share a specific character flaw, to make a group.

Though my grandmother was correct that laughing at my own mistakes [rather than self-deceiving] is necessary for a healthy mind, she left out how necessary it is to laugh in the face of problems beyond my own creation.

That bitch.


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~ by Louis Naughtic on February 26, 2017.

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