Wednesday, August 08, 2007

button, button, who's got the button

I have lots of buttons. They are big, on my forehead, and say PRESS HERE. And possibly there are others in locations I can't see until someone finds them. How do you hide these buttons? How do you remove them? It feels almost primal when someone starts pressing them. There is no space between poke and react. I can see it after the fact, like the post-game analysis. Yep, that's were I should have counted to 10. But that's hardly helpful.

I can see how it would be fun to hit them and watch my reflex go off, like tapping a knee. But it seems, to me, that if you like someone, or care about them at all, you wouldn't do that. But then I'm fairly gullible, naive, and just a little bit stupid about these kinds of things. And maybe it isn't so easy to know when you're poking the button, either.

The things I hate about myself all come roiling up when my buttons get pressed, and I think that bothers me more than the jab itself, or at least it is the aftertaste that lingers. My narcisism, my snapping turtle-like lashing out (sometimes misdirected), my terrible, ugly ignorance. My willingness to belabour a point which seems to be the side-effect of my ponderous insecurity. It makes me feel ugly on the inside.

I don't know if anyone even bothers to check here anymore. I certainly don't blog much lately. But if you do, I would extend an apology if I've directed or misdirected my ugliness at you. I'm sorry, which doesn't count as much as I'm trying. But both are true. I hope I didn't push your buttons.

1 comment:

Miss Kim said...

I check your blog every day my computer's on and I have my own set of buttons. I think you're smart enough to not take advice from me on not reacting to a pushed button--I think I'm smart enough not to offer any. But I feel your pain.