I Am My Own Protagonist

No one wants to be alone, but it seems like something worth getting used to.  I swear I’m not just being an asshole here, because I believe that everyone should hone the ability to be comfortable inside their own mind. You should be able to just sit there and think–without music, without television, without voicing whatever pointless story or conversational nothing you decided to fill your head with that day–because I promise that no one cares about it even a fraction as much as you do.  Okay…now I’m being an asshole.

You will never know what its like to be in my head, and I will never know what it’s like to be in yours.  While this fact of our existence does make us all unique little snowflakes, it also isolates us in that snowflakiness.*  No matter how close you are with someone, they will always hold something back. Which, when you think about it, is ideal. I can barely stand to be in my own head for an hour, let alone have unfiltered access to the thoughts of even one other person.  After hearing their free stream of impulse and perversion, you would never be able to look that person in the eyes again, and may even put a power drill in your ear to erase the memory.

The biggest byproduct of an independent mind is that the only person whose approval you need is you. Obviously peer pressure plays a role, but only insofar as it affects our opinion of ourselves. We only care what others think of us because it changes how we think of us; and if psychopaths have taught me anything, it’s that someone else’s disapproval can easily be rationalized as a selfish act on their part. (i.e. Dave thought you were being a self-congratulatory ass.–Yeah, well Dave is just jealous of how much smarter and more attractive I am.) As long as you can reconcile it with you, nothing else matters.

While this idea may be a bit frightening in regard to the fair slice of psychos and sadists in the population, it can be equally liberating for those of us that do have a conscience.  I like to be liked just as much as the next guy, but it won’t ruin my weekend if you don’t like me.  I am my own protagonist, and my dilusional optimism is essential to the success of my story. I’m sure you have similar feelings about yourself. Are you a tragic hero? A hopeless romantic? Or perhaps an oft persecuted martyr? Whatever your motives, you are the only character for whom the audience is always rooting. So, you need to learn to live with yourself.

Footnotes 

*Snowflakery?