Touchy, touchy

Being someone who has carefully crafted and cultivated a defensive personality from being misunderstood by others over the years, I have mastered the art of the pot of bubbling water: it’s always simmering and hardly ever boils over.

Until you misinterpret my words and misuse them against me. Then, watch the lid fall to the floor and the water flow out in waves.

One time, when I wrote about being surrounded by three fat people during a train ride, some readers thought I was insulting approximately ¼ of the world’s population.

But, that post was about people - irrelevant of size - impeding on my personal space. Being someone who suffers from respiratory issues (and mild claustrophobia), I begin to panic if there isn’t enough breathing room. It’s like people are sucking the air from around me.

It has nothing to do against the size of people. I’d rather be in a room with two plus-sized individuals, than 20 skinny ones.

Some people have issues with their weight and I shouldn’t make light of the situation. If I wanted to make fun of the man who was spilling over into my seat, I would’ve mentioned him eating junk food for an entire hour (which he did) while sitting beside me. But, I didn't.

I’m not a heartless person, and to prove it, here is where I stand on a few other issues…

I don’t hate old people. Almost everyone that I associate with is older than I am. They’re wiser, their experiences can be used as guidelines for life, and it's always easier to shift the blame on them when you fart.

I don’t hate people who drink. Some people treat life like happy hour, and I say good for them. You can also screw with their heads the next day because they won't remember anything they did with the really gross guy at the bar.

I don’t hate people who do drugs. Let them do what they want to their bodies. They can be more entertaining then non-high people because their inhibitions are gone.

I don’t hate people who whore around. They’ve got an itch to scratch, so let them scratch it. If they’re responsible adults, they can scratch all they want until they require antibiotics.

Why do I always have to defend myself?

I don’t hate anyone!

Wait, that’s not true…

I hate teenagers. Smug bastards. I couldn’t stand them when I was their age and I sure as hell can’t stand them now. So self-righteous and full of shit. Argh. I can’t stand ‘em.

Note: Not too long ago, I was also a fat person. So, for those people who say I was being critical of them, I was also being critical of myself.