Kurt Sutter Understands Me

There is a recent trend in blogging - being blatantly rude, but truthful about everyone. And everything that annoys you. It started for me with Moms Who Drink and Swear and blossomed into a collection of about seven blogs that I follow.

And then the bug hit me. I wanted a part of the action so badly. People bug me too! I never tell people what I REALLY think. And posting how I really feel on the Internet would be so therapeutic! Besides, I could be anonymous, right? Who knows? Maybe under a pseudonym, I'll get the recognition I desire.

And then, I got the recognition I desired, and it wasn't pretty.

For the first time ever, a stranger stumbled upon one of my blogs via Google. And this particular stranger was NOT happy with the particular post he stumbled across. He then proceeded to tell 150 of his closest friends what I had said.

Finally, after writing for 23 years about my thoughts, feelings, and opinions, finally some stranger saw my writing - and told all his friends. And even left comments! Unfortunately, the piece they stumbled upon was not my finest work...I was so heartbroken...

I feel like I got dragged down into this negative place, but I don't want to reside there anymore. This incident with my blog post broke my heart, but it snapped me back into my own reality. I'm not snarky, sassy, hurtful or disrespectful. I try, but I am more naturally kind, compassionate, considerate, sensitive, caring and so much more simultaneously.

And then today I read a recent blog posting from Kurt Sutter, the genius behind Sons of Anarchy. And truly, it sums up exactly where my head was at.

I'm exhausted by my own self-righteousness. Really. I have so many fucking opinions that feel so weighty and so relevant to the future of mankind, that I realized I'm just a fucking delusional downer. I know that sounds extreme and I don't regret anything I've said, but lately I've become very aware that my angry outbursts serve no purpose other than to relieve some small amount of pressure from my obsessive need to be understood. And by understood, I mean loved, worshiped and adored. I'm not a dick. Okay, not all the time. For the most part, I'm a fairly reasonable dude, but when I take a hit off of any fucking injustice pipe, man, I am fucking hooked on a feeling. High on believing, that you're in love with me. Ouga Chaka.