Sunday, September 12, 2010

Sarcasm

I am usually impervious to sarcasm. Experience has taught me that whoever loses his temper first loses the game. I have long since become able to hold my ground in the sarcastic verbal swordplay that oft ensues as a form of jest between friends, and on the rare times, a form of verbal scythe desired to cleave through an adversary's character.

There are times, however, when I am caught unaware. This usually happens when I am being serious and in no mood for games. Spiral prince defense-mechanism usually kicks in and my mouth becomes a machine-gun, firing away in a 'Die, bitch. Die.' kind of way, or so I imagine it does. I just keep mum about it, and watch as yet another crack traces itself in my crystalline ego. I love peace, after all.

The thing is, when I get an unexpected blow, it tarnishes my relationship with that person. I have a long memory for transgressions done against me, seeing as I rarely inflict it on other people, I've long since imbibed the belief that I do not deserve such treatment into my system. In a similar vein, I've a long memory for the wrongs I've done to others, leading me to be at worst, awkward, and at best, civil, around them. As Lady Gaga and Beyonce on their Telephone music video said,

"Trust is like a mirror, you can fix if it's broken."

"But you can still see the cracks in that mother-fucking reflection."


We shouldn't light fires where they aren't needed. Aside from contributing to the Greenhouse Effect, we might burn whole places down. I consider it an insult when I things like this get slammed down my face. I mean, I don't deserve to be treated like that. Play around, sure. We can fool around, I'm game. But when the situation calls for seriousness, then by all means, please comply. We're social beings after all, and being the social, and usually civil, humans that we are, we have to make sure that our relationships stay healthy. We should give and take;we should learn to reciprocate - it is how we grow into better persons in the long run.

As of now, yet another sliver of my long and overstretched patience has been burned; yet another strike has been inflicted upon me; yet another line joins the graffiti of tallies on the wall of my being. And all of these vandals against my humanity have been done for a petty reason - someone else's passing happiness at my stupefied face and voiceless shock.

And yet I must endure.

I always endure.

Or try to.




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