Offensive Personal Opinions

I’m Leaving

Whenever I’ve heard someone say “I’m leaving”, they usually don’t. They stay and wait for a reaction. And, when you don’t react, they get riled up, and start arguments. “Wow. You really don’t care, do you? I said I’m leaving and you have nothing to say? I guess I should’ve left a long time ago!” Unfortunately, no response will satisfy them, because they don’t really know what they want. There is nothing you can do. You’re stuck. If you react, your actions and words will be held against you. If you don’t react, you’re an insensitive asshole. Let me show you.

Probable Response 1: Don’t leave.

“Too late for that now. I am going to do what I want to do. I don’t care what you want. I’ve put up with you long enough.”

You are left feeling guilty, clueless, and hurt. You’re going to rewind as far as memory serves, and over-analyze everything, only to come up with nothing. You don’t have a defense, because you didn’t think you’d ever have to defend yourself.

Probable Response 2: Fine. Fuck off.

“You fuck off. You don’t get to be cocky about this. This is exactly why I’m leaving. You don’t care.”

Fuck off was your bye. But, because you chose to honestly verbalize your thoughts, you’re the villain now. Now, you’re angry, frustrated, and this close to breaking something. But, there’s no use showing your anger, because these days, the definition of abuse and harassment is pretty inclusive and vague. You don’t want to become the subject of another social media outburst. Keep calm, and slaughter them a thousand different ways in your head. Your mind space is your only sanctuary.

Probable Response 3: I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to piss you off. Let’s talk about this. What happened? Let’s have a conversation like adults. After that, if you still want to leave, I won’t stop you.

Now, this is interesting. I know this seems like the best response compared to the other two options. But, that’s only because it’s the most passive (aggressive) response, and you’re not trying to really express yourself here. There’s a 50-50 chance of this response leading to peace. You talk it out, you realize each other’s mistakes. You vow it won’t get this bad again. You live to see another day. You’ve won the battle. But, you are going to lose the war.

When it comes to defending yourself, there is one problem you cannot avoid. Every time you try to protect yourself from an attack, you will hurt yourself. It’s like covering your face when you’re getting slapped. You might get away with a spotless face, but your hands will hurt from the impact. Compared to your face, your hands are dispensable. So, you don’t give it much thought. But, you need your hands to apply the cream that keeps your face spotless and glowing. You need your hands to hold onto someone when you really need them. You will need your hands to stop someone from leaving you.

But, the slapper gets stronger with each strike, because they know your pain threshold has increased. And, finally, the one time when you can’t lift your hands up to cover your face, it will be lights out. So, in retrospect, while Probable Response 3 seems the easiest, it is actually the worst thing to do. It’s like building a fortress. It might keep you safe from assault, but it will eventually become a prison you’ve built for yourself. Not because you were a coward, but because you were thinking of quick fixes. Probable Response 3 is a quick fix. You’re choosing concentrated moments of peace, happiness, and glory, over being free, owning yourself, and getting stronger.

Announcing arrival or departure is nothing but attention seeking behavior. They want you to prepare yourself to greet them when they arrive. When they depart, they want to be missed. They want to know that they can affect you in some way or another. If you miss them, you will treat them like royalty when they come back. And, hence begins a vicious cycle. Throughout this cycle, you end up simply reacting and responding; like a reflex action. Unconsciously, you’ve practiced it a thousand times, and it’s muscle memory now.

Stop, and think about what you’re doing. “Do unto others, what you want done unto you” is bullshit. If that were the case, every time you needed a haircut, you’d have to cut the barber’s hair first. Do unto you, and stop there. Let others do unto you whatever the fuck they want. You will handle it. Trust me.

We live in a world of selective asshole. Selective, because they choose to shit on only those they know will take it. We are creatures of habit. We are also arguable the most competitive species out there. We have never naturally owned anything. We have only claimed ownership of something, enslaved it, raped and plundered, and moved on. Take ownership of yourself. There are no benefits to slavery. The light at the end of the tunnel is only visible because you are in the dark. Accept the darkness, and you will enjoy the light when it gets to you. There will be pain. You will suffer. You will doubt yourself every step of the way. But, you’d rather feel all of those things and do something about it. Maybe you deserved it all. Maybe you didn’t. It doesn’t matter now. You still have your sanity. You are the master of your own free will. Do not seek revenge. Do not seek closure. Just get used to existing as a lump of flesh. It’s not that bad. Babies are technically big lopsided lumps of flesh, but people still find them cute for some reason.

Nobody truly leaves. They only leave one thing for another. If somebody walks out on you, they’re going to go someplace else and bitch about it the first chance they get. It’s like being a walker in a joggers’ park. Every time someone runs away from you, they’ll come around soon enough. Meanwhile, you just keep walking.

Change isn’t always bad. Sometimes, changing is about staying the same when everyone around you changes for the worst. Stay strong. The next time someone says “I’m leaving”, just say “have fun!”

If they come back, you’ll know they didn’t have too much fun.

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Offensive Personal Opinions, Stand-up Comedy

Sincere Apology

Let me tell you what happened today. But, before we begin, you need to know something – I am the villain in this story.

It was a Tuesday, and I was at the open mic I run. I was waiting to go up; I was last. There were about four comics left before the end of the show, and the host was doing a brilliant job. This was happening in Nanganallur AKA boot camp Mylapore. Not much happens in Nanganallur, which why Nanganallur doesn’t rhyme with fun.

During the open mic, there was an elderly man and a young lady who stayed for the first half, and they enjoyed themselves despite the occasional fucks being flung around. They left a while later. Not because they weren’t having fun, but because they had a life. A little later, a family of four walked in. Father, mother, son, and daughter-in-law. They left soon after, because they didn’t realize the open mic was happening, and had come to the restaurant to talk family matters.  Yes, they were so progressive, they got dressed up to go to the nearest youth hangout spot to talk about personal stuff. My deductive skills told me they were probably a nuclear family sharing the house with every other surviving relative who was really old, but just didn’t know when to die.

Then, four fresh-out-of-school kids walked in. Two boys, two girls. I give you this detail so you know that our nation’s sex ratio is progressing, even if the economy isn’t. They sat down at a table just next to the performance area. The girls sat huddled together (because traditional values dictated so), one guy sat indecisively facing the comic at a 45° angle. He was trying to be cool with one elbow propped on the table, and trying to lean back while also awkwardly making sure his legs weren’t spread out too wide (because traditional values dictated so). The fourth thought he would sit with his back to the performer as a display of dominance. He was definitely the prepubescent alpha male of the group. He had a gym bag on, which he refused to take off. My deductive skills told me he was trying to build muscles to overcompensate for the one tiny mass of muscle that wasn’t as endowed as he would’ve liked it to be. Whenever the host would try to talk to him, he would just stretch his neck up, and talk out of a lopsided mouth like a rejected extra from a Japanese horror flick.

The host spoke to each one of them, explained what was happening, and went on to introduce the next performer. With each passing minute, the kids kept getting louder. The performers were trying to be nice by talking to whoever else was listening. But, let me tell you from experience, when kids want to be loud, there’s nothing you can do to drown it out. Well, you could drown them, but that depends on whether you really want to put so much effort into killing a bunch of educated retards you’ve just met by coincidence. They got busy with their phones, clicking selfies and trying to pass snide remarks about the performer, fully aware that everyone could hear them. The alpha male, with his back to the performers the entire time, was trying to be funny to his group of friends. If there’s one thing a comedian hates, it’s another comedian without a mic.

Finally, it was my turn. I was the last performer, and I was going to close the show. What happened next was not something I planned. I tried my best to tune these loudmouths out and power through my set. But, you can’t always have what you want. There was another snide remark that was passed, and I lost my shit.

I addressed these attention whores, and asked them if they understood what was going on. The indecisive little shit responded with a “Should we?” and that just made it worse. I spoke to them for a few seconds, just long enough to make it awkward for everyone. The room went silent. I had singlehandedly brought the energy down. It was not a great show, but I made it worse. There was no coming back from that. The kids left right after that, and I went back to finish my set like nothing happened. I was still shaking, and I knew I had done something terrible. I tried to save the show by talking to a couple of guys who had walked in, just in time to witness the verbal homicide of the evening. I got a few laughs, apologized, and closed the show. I also apologized to the venue owners, who were sweet enough to not yell at me.

It was my fault. It was the most unprofessional thing I could’ve done. If we lose this venue, it will be on me. I vowed to be nicer next time. I was clearly in the wrong.
But, here’s what really annoyed me – “They’re just kids. They don’t know.” The saving grace was nobody said “It’s not their fault.” But, they’re just kids? Really?

When we started the open mic, there was this lady with her child. They were accompanied by who looked to be the granddad of the kid. The mother ordered a burger with fries, and sat at a table with the cute and cuddly little one plonked on the table in front of her. The kid tried to grab at one of the French fries with her stubby little teeny weeny fingers, but just couldn’t manage it. The mother picked up a piece, and handed it to this little innocent creature. The baby then proceeded to munch-munch-munch on the fry like a baby squirrel who has no clue about the evil world out there with the kill or be killed, survival of the fittest mentality. THAT IS A KID. THAT KID DOESN’T KNOW. If that kid had interrupted the open mic, there is nothing I could’ve done. I’d have probably lifted her up, sat her on my shoulder and taken her on a tour of the wonderful place that is Nanganallur. The child was on mute throughout, and I don’t think that’s owing to a disability.

I wasn’t angry because I had a few unruly audience members. I’m angry that these were a bunch of assholes who’d seemingly learnt nothing despite being through thirteen consecutive years in the Indian education system. They’re old enough to drive, but not old enough to be decent? Explain that to me, please. I would like to know exactly at what point in human evolution did manners become an optional gene. I refuse to believe that a seventeen year old is still a kid. Just because they were born later, doesn’t make them kids for life.

Yes, I could’ve been nice. I could’ve said, “Please shut the fuck up.” But, I chose not to please them. I chose to demonstrate cause and effect. I took it upon myself to show them that actions have consequences, even if you are just a kid.

I do not need anyone’s approval. I’m not looking for “It’s not your fault, dude. It had to be done.” because it will not make me feel better about it. I feel really bad about what I did. But, what I don’t feel bad about, is there’s little decency left in kids these days, and someone has to keep them in check once in a while. Today, was that once-in-a-while.
I will try to be nicer next time (if there ever is a next time). But, I also promise to not take shit from kids who know nothing.

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