Hello?

There are some who call me friend. Some who call me an acquaintance. Others, merely "that guy I saw that time at that place". I know of none who call me enemy, but there may be people out there who do such. Wasted energy on their part if they do.

Others who fit into any of those categories still tend to have other words to use in addition with which they would describe me. People seem to like to describe things, give them traits and characteristics.

Some have described me as a complete fake, a person who will "ignore himself" to get what he wants. I can think of many situations I have lied to get what I want. Heck, there is no guarantee that here, right now, I'm not lying. You have no reason to trust what I write. Since I stand to gain very little from lying here, I can afford to be reasonably honest. None the less, I can guarantee if I stand to gain more from lying than telling the truth, I will take the logical and natural course of action: I will lie. Is that not the sensible response?

What makes a person fake in the first place? I have asked this question many times, never got a satisfying answer. So maybe the label applies to me. Obviously I deny fakeness, and even if I were fake wouldn't admit to being fake. People tend to avoid known fakes and that makes the life of the fake so much more difficult. Admitting to it in public would just be pointless and self-defeating, so why do it?

I have also been described by others as one of the most "real" people they had ever met. The conflict in perceptions of me is interesting, to say the least.

I had a discussion with another recently. It was one of those talks which jumps from one random topic to another, I'm sure you know the kind. This conversation managed to flow from friends back home to human morality.

At one point in this conversation a word got thrown around casually once or twice about my views on human morality (or the inherent lack thereof), and the reasons for human action: Sociopath. Obviously they did not mean I was a sociopath, just that I had a "sociopathic" outlook on the world (whatever that means).

"Oh no", you go, "Another of those blogs written by people bragging about how much of a sociopathic nutcase who feasts on human flesh they are!" Well, no. I'm not going to say I'm a sociopath. Actually, medically speaking there's no such thing. Those words may be terms used by professionals and laymen alike, but as disorders they no longer exist. They were once considered to exist, now the various classification guidelines have replaced them with disorders with names like "anti-social personality disorder" or "dissocial personality disorder".

Anyway, I digress. I'm not going to claim to have such conditions. I don't know, and I'm not about to walk into a therapists chair and receive any of those particular labels. It wouldn't benefit my life in any way to paint a target on my back like that, would it?

And now the big question: Why am I writing a blog?

Well, why not? I was bored. It's a bit of a problem for me. Sometimes people bore me, sometimes being alone bores me, sometimes both of those bore me. I can seek out something interesting (video games, drugs, rock and roll, television) and that's what I'm doing: Seeking out something to interest me and writing this mini-essay introduction to a blog has mitigated the boredom slightly. Soon that boredom will return, obviously. At least time has passed between then and now where I was less bored.