An Undeserved Reputation

It’s a horrible thing to get a reputation. As soon as I have one I want to lose it. Reputations are millstones of expectation, hung around my neck, mostly by people who have given up on their own talents.

I seethe against and resent accolades especially. The laurels may as well be poison ivy leaving scars on my scalp – I do not want to wear them. Supposed glory means nothing to me, moments of other people’s bliss which have no bearing on my own state of mind. I have several times looked about me as a delighted throng cavorts for some reason connected to an action of mine I consider insignificant.

I have sometimes even been mistaken for a kind of hero, or worse, genius. I work particularly hard against those last two insidious lies, trotted out by the complacent, and deserved by scant few in this life and certainly not by me.

It’s a sign of self-esteem to refuse flattery, although it’s often confused with self-hatred. No, mate, self-hatred would have me pissed in the gutter, with a cocaine nosebleed, and I gave up drugs and alcohol years ago. It’s a tougher and less gratifying path to travel most of the time, this sceptical philosophy, but one I find fulfilling.

Now, dance!