Wednesday, October 29, 2014

Self Aware Rumblings

Me: Today seems a good enough day to reinvent the idea of inventing you. I am just about to turn a year older, two friends are getting married and both seem to have grown so used to their identities as 'young women' that I ended up feeling even more infantile than usual after talking to them. This is where you are supposed to come in and help me grow into my boobs and subsequent femininity.

 Him : How exactly am I supposed to help you do this ? I think you have merely invented me as a character in your life because I speak exactly the way you would have someone speak and then be able to go through the joyful process of undoing one of your own perspectives. It hardly seems challenging.

 Me : If you had not been a product of my imagination then we would not be psychoanalyzing me. The only critical voice my megalomania allows me to entertain is my own.

 Him : Another very important question - how exactly am I supposed to help you grow into your own femininity ? Am I supposed to be imagined in countless sexual scenarios like you used to do in your teen years ? Or can I pull off a Her and choose random women from your head and take control of your sexual destiny by pointing out why exactly I would not fuck you when I could fuck all those other girls around you ? A little bit of objectification and jealousy and ruining of 'strong female bonds' - it would be interesting and I believe what can be called realistic. 

Me: That would not be like Her - technically, it is just a mirroring of my maybe curbed sexual responses to women around me in my psyche. Or something like that. Also, assuming you to be a textbook man from a bad Ben Stiller movie really does not serve my purpose of understanding the sexes better, I am supposed to keep an open and critical mind and train myself to become more appreciative of differences and all that crap. It is not my job to nurture your wants and expectations. If I was capable of doing that I wouldn't be creating a man in my head just to avoid all the other men out there. 

Him : I am having a Pinocchio moment - I want to be a real boy just to escape this obnoxious self awareness. You seem to be far too old to start constructing self conscious imaginary friends. 

Me: Months of careful social alienation has actually left me socially alienated and this seems to be a fun way to pass time. As the Barbie Doll song taught me - 'imagination - that is your creation'AND (because that is how profound that song was) - 'You'll do whatever I please.'

 Him: The contradictions keep rolling in. After all that bull about self actualization (which I know you picked up from Princess Diaries) and almost an overbearing philosophical tone about self awareness, the feminist you who wants to 'understand' did not just quote 'I'm a Barbie Doll.' I am judging myself for being a part of your imagination right now ! 

Me: It is a tough life indeed when your imagination itself is a blow hard.

1 comment:

ਅ.ਪ.ਸ. said...

There is quite nothing like an imaginary guy in your head to help you grow into your boobs. I wish I had an imaginary guy like that to help me grow into my man boobs. Instead, I just get a deep seated fear of commitment, self loathing, and a pinch of inferiority complex.

I'd ask you to take note of how to take someone else's blog post about self actualization and social conflicts and turn it all about yourself, if you were not already an expert in narcissism. You can take offense if you want, I won't judge.

Nothing beckons social alienation quite like your friends doing well for themselves. Those egotistical maniacs with no consideration for your feelings whatsoever. Personally, I just deactivate my Facebook and pretend they don't exist. Works every time, for a couple of months.

I am happy - although, not for you - to announce that this is not the saddest attempt I have seen at avoiding real world men, the sad species that we are.

With a blow hard imagination, it is better to suck up to your friends, have your self esteem steam rolled, wrapped and mummified. That is, if you have not already been killed off by Ben Stiller fanatics.

Since it has been more than 5 months since the last post, I will assume that you are dead, along with my sense of humour, and will say a prayer in your name.