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This is a humorous (or at least intended to be humorous) essay. It… - John [entries|archive|friends|userinfo]
John

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[Aug. 3rd, 2003|09:33 pm]
John
This is a humorous (or at least intended to be humorous) essay. It is, emphatically, *not* pointed at anyone. If you've recently said anything to, or around, me that might make you think that I'm thinking of you, well, I'm not. In fact, you can find the roots of this essay on alt.support.attn-deficit a while back.

It's about self-image, which is why there is a disclaimer. It's not horribly long, but I'm still throwing in a 'courtesy cut tag'


Hey, you.

Yeah, that's right. *You*. I'm talking to you, you worthless scumbag.

How can you live with yourself?

You can't fly. You can't lift thousands of pounds. Bullets don't bounce off your chest, and you don't have supersenses.

You disgusting, worthless person. People have *died* because you do not have the powers of the comic book character, Superman. Hundreds, perhaps thousands, of people have died, all because you weren't good enough. Why didn't you try harder? Why didn't you work harder? Why did you give up so easily?

What the hell do you think you're supposed to be, a limited human being, who can only affect so much? Do you think you're supposed to be a fallible person, who makes mistakes, and can only try to make them right afterwards? *Hah!*

No. I got your number. I'm sick and tired of you beating yourself up over your piddling little, bullshit failings. If you're going to beat yourself up, do it right.

You're not Superman... how *dare* you!

I don't want to hear about how badly you feel because you can't fix a problem with people you love... that's nothing! Let's talk about the war with Iraq! You could have just flown over the country, scanning with your X-ray vision to see if there were biological or chemical weapons, and the Iraqis wouldn't know to coat their operations in lead, because Superman doesn't exist! Thousands of people have died, all because *you* weren't good enough to stop the war!

I don't want to hear about that mistake you made last week, that you can try to fix, but can never put right. Lets talk about the dozens of traffic accidents that have occurred near enough to you that you should have flown over to, and flown the victims to the hospital. Lives senselessly lost, all because *you* aren't Superman.

I don't want to hear you whining about your difficulties, and your limitations, and your unrealistic expectations, because if you're going to be unrealistic in your expectations, you can bloody well do it right!

Oh, I suppose if you *insist*, you could start accepting that you are, in fact, only human, not Superman, and try to keep yourself most focused on the things you *can* do, rather than the things you can't... but if you're going to be angry about the impossible, let's not keep worrying about the little stuff. Let's go all the way!
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