When I first met a girl, by most standards, she used the word “passive-aggressive” sometimes, which was very frustrating.
Every time she said it, and it wasn’t all the time, I felt like she was coming out swinging at me and calling me a wimp.
I related this, I suppose, to being Marty McFly in the Back to the Future movies. I felt like I had to make all kinds of things happen if I eventually wanted the year 2015 to be all right.
I was troubled by it for a long time. Some years later, maybe three years later, I kind of resolved the uneasiness it caused in my heart. It took me a long time to find a book about passive-aggressive anger that explained its meaning in substantial detail, which at least gave me time to reflect on the accusation.
The lie there was that the kind of underlying anger would sort of anger karma into destroying my opportunities in life. I experimented with it to find out. In an attempt to create some mirth in what can be described as a sluggish job, I made small talk at work to appear passive-aggressive.
I suppose I seemed like a loser, really. The experience of viewing life experiences through the eyes of someone who is passive-aggressive was pretty fun, though.
And I’m not sure it made a difference at all.
There is plenty to be said in favor of observing custom. To somebody that wants a class clown at age thirty or however old, it merely steered my progress in life into coming in contact with people who related to grime. While being responsive to feedback about how I acted, I found a lot of satisfaction in bringing up learning experiences I’d had that had been pretty terrible.
I didn’t have much of a problem doing this. I didn’t feel there was anything wrong with me being socially inept. This is considered a matter of opinion.
As the singer put it, I never thought I was on TV.