nghtdvl

Thurso. I had not been there in ages, and it seemed only fitting that I return there to bury my grandmother which was the only reason I even knew about this small village. The fact that she left behind six children, including my mother, was promising us an overall rather grim day.

As usual, not for me. Ever since losing my father during my teen years, it seems that sadness is not something that death triggers in me anymore. I contemplate the loss, I miss them, feel bad about them not being able to achieve anything anymore. Still, no sadness.

The church kept me busy that day. Busy concentrating on not bursting in flames from acute atheism, busy not laughing when the priest would do his dishes or have a little nappy nap, while we were all there waiting. Or when he mentionned the Zombies. You know, the dead taking flesh again with Jesus' return. Despite being "the hippie at the NRA rally", I managed well.

Goodbye Grandma, you were awesome for what I knew of you.

I gave a ride back to civilization to my cousin, since his parents had left early. Going back to his new apartment, which is ridiculously close to mine, I came in for a quick tour. A beer later, he told me he was having a houseparty that night and that I was welcomed to hang out.

That's were I went odd and accepted. Not even reluctantly. 'Odd', yes. I usually don't have that much of a great time when I'm mostly with people I don't know, but my schedule was empty on a Saturday night. Well it wasn't the only reason, really. Inexplicably, I've been overwhelmed with sexual drive these last months. Conveniently, social activities seem to help me partially dissipate it through simple things like getting a little eye contact with a cute girl, giving a cute guy an ambiguous smile... You could say my motives were health-related.

In the end, most of the surprise came from the fact that I had an awesome time while still being my semi-generic version. I do not remember the last time I had such a good laugh. Surely the drinks helped a lot, but still - it was something. I hope I'll get to see them again, or perhaps go to some other party where unknown people are hilariously fun.

...

Didn't you almost think I was going to let that "semi-generic version" undefined? I feel like you were going to say something, but didn't dare. Let me explain.

I don't care what people think of me. At all. On the other hand, I deeply care about what I think of me. You might say I have principles and even perhaps expect too much of myself. Problem. When I am not in semi-generic mode, people get offended. Guys get offended when I think they're cute. Smokers get offended when I find their smoke lame. Believers get offended when they ask me what I think of their religion. I can sugar-coat with the best, yet I don't lie.

My self-protection mechanism is 'semi-generic mode'. It can be used at work, with people I don't know or when I'm at those dreaded places where what people think of me is essential in realizing certain important goals. The point of this mode is to navigate around the touchy subjects without the others realizing it. It's quite the art. There's no need to lie, because the conversation never goes where a lie is required. And if I get trapped, well, they get to meet the real me. Hi!