Psychological Disorders

I just read (Time Magazine, March 21. 2011, pp 38-39) that scientists have discovered that psychological disorders start early in childhood and tend to stick around for a long, long time. That piece of news struck me like a lightning bolt, freeing me of all self-doubts and reinforcing what I have thought about the human mind, and especially the behavior of so many odd and strange individuals of a certain group with which I have a tenuous relationship.

Let me start with an observation that I am myself not a stranger to oddities, but compared to those aforementioned dudes, I would have to say that I have a much closer connection with realities than they do. One is really sick and lonely, yet he ironically has taken upon himself a task of beating the drum that I need psychological consultation. Ironies are lost on him. Here we have a guy who thought it was cool to compose a "poem", modeled after the lyrics of a song written by a composer whom he worshipped, about a failed effort at masturbation. The reason I knew of the existence of such a sordid attempt of "literary" (sic! and sick!) creation was that the sick dude posted it in the cyberspace. And yet he later baldly denied that he had never, ever indulged in such onanistic behavior, literary or manually. That was not the only strange thing about him. He even posted an article written by somebody else, in which the deeply offensive word about female genitalia is spelled in Vietnamese in all of its splendor. So, the dude is also a liar, besides being sick in the head and suffering from sexual impotence. He is also infamous for dishing out insults, but extremely thin-skinned at any counter-attacks. I almost forgot to point out that he has repeatedly invited contempt and ridicule upon himself for his lame, crippled efforts to write verses instead of prose. His so-called verses lack both rhyme and rhythm, besides meaning and impact. He simply has no feel for the cadence, music, and rhythm of words, a prerequisite in any effort of expressing oneself in verse.

There is another dude who is neither brave nor patriotic, but loves power. He fancies that he has power. He once criticized and publicly corrected me for usingly the common Anglo Saxon word "fucking" once in my fictional piece about an ex-soldier in distress. And then a few weeks later, he himself recounted a very crude joke in which the port-hole of a cruise ship cabin was compared, by way of double entendre, with the human female sexual orifice! I would think there was no clearer example of hypocrisy and fraud than this dude's behavior. My respect for the dude went down the toilet after I read his joke.

And then there is a dude for whom I strangely have an affection despite his tendency to pontificate on whatever topic that is brought up, no matter if he knows about it or not. The dude also has an odd habit of looking at whatever situation from a very uncommon angle. I think he has a problem with his vision, both literally and metaphorically.

What's about me? Shoot (polite form for "shit", in case you don't know, similar to "darn" for "damn"), it would take a book to catalogue my strangeness and oddities. Everybody I meet says I am different. Every girl and woman I come across says I am interesting and funny. And most of them would fall in love with me, one way or another. I was born different and I stay different. I march to a different drummer. I hear a different music. But one thing I can assure you: I ain't no fraud nor hypocrite like other strange dudes.

Roberto