Above Average

If I stood still, hands in pocket, thumbs peeking beguilingly, then you’d think me a normal enough guy. You know – kinda average in a white-guy-sort-of-a-way. And I guess I am.

But beneath the hood, under my skin, I’m actually above average.

Here are three things I’m above average at:

1. Being me
2. Erm …
3. Okay, that didn’t work.

Actually, what I’m trying to claim to be is statistically better than more of the population than less of the population. And yeah, when I think about it – what I’m saying makes as much sense as that last sentence, which I hope you didn’t spend too long puzzling over.

Obviously you made it here, so you must have either got it in the end, moved on without understanding, or (horror of horrors) given up reading altogether, in which case – you’re a figment of my imagination – a non-existent reader.

Okay, I need to get away from that line of thought because if you are reading this then you do exist and any discussion about your non-existence is moot (love that word) and if you don’t exist then there’s no point in talking to you. Except that I’m not really talking to anyone yet, apart from myself, and there’s no real point in doing that because:

1. I already know all the things that I could say and
2. I’m not really listening because I’m busy talking – duh!

Did I really just duh myself? Yep, I guess I did. I should reprimand myself for being disrespectful I guess, but I’m not really that kind of a guy. I’m pretty laid back actually.

I can’t get beyond the feeling that someone is reading these words (apart from me as I do this edit). I can feel you tickling the back of my mind as I type. You are probably female. Probably intelligent. Probably rather attractive. Probably energetic. Probably clinically insane.

Actually, I just threw the last one in for effect.

I do things for effect.

I realised yesterday that I do too many things for effect.

Yesterday, there came upon me the realisation that I am alienating everyone that ever knew me and am preparing to alienate everyone who might ever want to know me. It was quite a sobering thought. You see, the thing is – I’m above average in all sorts of things, which means that I could be a successful … person. But I’m not. Not really. I’m just getting by. I’m just keeping my head down and, well, just coasting really.

With my looks, intelligence and charm – I could really shine. With my personality – I’m killing myself. Let’s be honest about this – I’m crushing down any advantages my abilities ever gave me with my tendency to be caustic and cutting.

And another thing that’s not helping me is my habit of walking away. This kills any chance I have of forming anything like a stable set of relationships with the people around me.

Okay, I think I’ll stop there. If I carry on, I know that I’ll dig myself out of the existential hole I’ve planted myself in. I’ll do this by reminding myself that I have choices, and that I’m above average in all sorts of things, and that I’ll change, and that tomorrow will be better, and that maybe, just maybe, someone will read this and have the balls and the ability to help me. But …

*sighs and starts to think about tags to add to these words*