It’s time for another long-ish post.
Recently, I was told that I am vulgar. The word, as everyone knows, is often used to describe those who cuss a shitload. Well fuck. I didn’t know I cussed all that often.
I Google-defined the word to give myself a solid understanding of its denotation.
Definitions of vulgar on the Web:
* coarse: lacking refinement or cultivation or taste; “he had coarse manners but a first-rate mind”; “behavior that branded him as common”; “an untutored and uncouth human being”; “an uncouth soldier–a real tough guy”; “appealing to the vulgar taste for violence”; “the vulgar display of the newly rich”
* common: of or associated with the great masses of people; “the common people in those days suffered greatly”; “behavior that branded him as common”; “his square plebeian nose”; “a vulgar and objectionable person”; “the unwashed masses”
* common: being or characteristic of or appropriate to everyday language; “common parlance”; “a vernacular term”; “vernacular speakers”; “the vulgar tongue of the masses”; “the technical and vulgar names for an animal species”
* coarse: conspicuously and tastelessly indecent; “coarse language”; “a crude joke”; “crude behavior”; “an earthy sense of humor”; “a revoltingly gross expletive”; “a vulgar gesture”; “full of language so vulgar it should have been edited”
Woah, woah. A little too much there. Common? Coarse? I thought that vulgar pertained only to, well, people who couldn’t help but cuss at every open opportunity.
So let’s see here. I am vulgar. I am arrogant. I hold myself in high regards. I am self-righteous. I am pathetic. I am weak. I am stupid. I lack culture. I am not American. I lack human decency.
Vulgar, no. I can control what comes out of my mouth. If I say something potentially offensive, it’s up to you to determine what to do with it. And I wasn’t aware that I was so common. This leads me to believe one of the following:
1) The person responsible for labelling me as being vulgar has no idea who I am
2) The person responsible for labelling me as being vulgar has no idea what its denotation is
If it’s the latter, then I owe it up to skewed interpretations of English. I ejaculated the comment. Half of the town was consumed in the holocaust. He felt gay upon seeing his friend disembark from the vessel.
Language is impotent. As are images. Everything that you write, say, or depict through any medium can be interpreted in a multitude of ways. How about we all just sit around and smile?
I am arrogant. This ties in rather smoothly with I hold myself in high regards. I think I have something that noone else has. A talent, some innate quality that makes me unique in the world. I think I’m a god in my own right. Yet I still recognize others for their talents, I applaud them for their accomplishments, and I don’t make any attempt to keep the spotlight on myself. In fact, there are many times when I feel that I have failed to seize an opportunity because I have allowed myself to slip back, to sink and remain unnoticed. You have to be noticed if you want to get anywhere.
I am self-righteous. When I do something, I think I’m doing what’s best or what’s correct. I do things with no intention other than to hurt people. I don’t treat people how they expect to be treated. If someone treats me well, I’ll just stab him and break him when I’m bored. I expect that people will pick themselves up, I don’t think about the consequences linked to my every action. I don’t take into consideration how relationships are built up. What matters to me is the moment. If something seems right at any given point in time, I’ll do it. Yet I admit to my mistakes, I apologize when I wrong people. At times, I will try and cover for my past actions to save face. I will think about long-term effects. I will do what’s most constructive in the long-term. When my mind is clouded by recent events, I take a step back to survey the situation and to evaluate what step to take next. I have been wrong about things in the past, and I will make mistakes again in the future.
I am pathetic. I allow day to day events to affect me. I dwell upon them for far too long. I lose sleep at nights because of them. The events make me act on impulse at times. I hope, I dream for a change in the tides. I pray that things will be alright. I can’t allow myself to forget if I have done something wrong. I cannot accept loss.
I am weak. I take too long to pick myself up when I’ve been knocked down. I choose not to fight back. I don’t argue for what I believe in. I let people do as they please. I allow others to bend and break me. I won’t throw any punches for fear of getting myself hurt in the process. I cannot think for myself.
I am stupid. I am incapable of achieving anything. I have no future ahead of me. My academic progress cannot even be deemed progress. My mind cannot focus. I don’t understand what it means to follow instructions. I allow myself to slip back. I don’t make an effort to rise, to get ahead. I am nothing.
I lack culture. I am not American. I don’t have a place to call my own. I cannot identify with anyone amongst my peers. Wait wait, scratch that. I’m American. I’m Chinese by race, American by birth. Yeah yeah, argue with me. Tell me I’m not American. That I’m lacking something. What is it? The skin color? Look around in America and what do you see? Is it all just black and white? Surely, something is wrong. That guy looks Asian. Kid can’t be American. Speaks pretty damn good English, though. Yeah, I guess they’re teaching those kids good back in the East.
I lack human decency. When it’s clear that I’m losing an argument, I’ll sink to new lows. I will not stop until I get my way. My view is never incorrect. I will not hesitate to insult someone, regardless of how they have treated me in the past. I will stop at nothing to see those who I dislike crushed. I am swayed by my friends. I rally my friends against others when I feel that they’ve done something wrong. I cannot accept blame. I cannot accept responsibility for the actions that I have committed. I cannot hold a civilized discussion with another individual. I will resort to back-stabbing tactics in order to end up on top. I have pulled a gun in a fistfight. I will kick a man when he’s down.
And now, I must ask; what am I to you?
Listening to: Red Hot Chili Peppers – Scar Tissue