fancy speak

Sunday, July 28, 2013 | post a comment {0}

I fear two outcomes that have just made their possibilities present to me: I have either grown up, or I have grown dumb.

I can't stand embellished talk anymore. As in, when someone tries to explain something, they put in extra emotion or bravado or unnecessary words. I don't know what it means or where it came from, but this act really pisses me off now.

When I sit there and listen I feel like screaming. Get to the point. Just say what you need to say. I'm not dealing with passive-aggressiveness anymore, I'm not dealing with miscommunication anymore, and I'm certainly not dealing with extra baggage not coincidented to the task at hand anymore.

I blame this partially on spending 6 weeks with completely math and science-minded people; everyone was blunt and straight to the point, so perhaps that's why information irrelevant to a topic gets on my nerves. Or maybe, I am tired of listening to horse shit day in and day out. Maybe for once I just want straight answers to appeal to my micro-planning self. And in this way, perhaps I'm growing up. I'm losing my ability to be compassionate. To enjoy the poetry that is people's struggles as they they try to express themselves in words and finally succeed. I can no longer find the happiness I felt when people would confide in me. I can only worry about me. Me and my emotions and appeasing to them here and now, as fast as the world will accommodate to me. I hate it. There's a certain type of caring that only children have, that adults can hardly ever replicate, and I'm becoming one of them. Old and bitter and selfish.

And if this is not the case then I can only assume that I've become dumber. I don't have the mental capability to empathize. In which case, I am saddened just the same. Wronger still is my biggest concern if this is so, being that I'm scared my writing will suffer, and nothing more. What a selfish notion, right?

Who am I?