I like being weird. I don’t know exactly why. Maybe it’s because I love knowledge and I want to better understand the world around me. That would be fine. But maybe it’s because I love the feeling that I know more than someone else. Maybe it’s because I crave attention, like when I reveal an obscure tidbit of information and someone looks at me startled, delighted, puzzled, and disgusted simultaneously.
Actually, I think it’s all of the above. I like being a nerd because it’s fun. It’s fun to know a lot of things, because then I can do a lot of things. It’s fun to know more than other people because, well, I’m male, and it’s just genetic to want to be better than everybody. And it’s always fun to get attention, even if the attention isn’t attraction.
All in all, I think I’m the most selfish person that I know. In case you’ve ever thought that about me and wondered if I realize it, I do. I hate it. But I love it. I want to change it, but I can’t really figure out how. I want to love other people more than myself. Sometimes I do, and it’s one of the greatest feelings in the world. Then my life has purpose. I feel a sense of— DAMN IT! Look at that! I’m talking about how great it makes ME feel when I love someone else more than myself. Even if that somehow makes sense, it’s the wrong motivation for loving other people. I’m hopeless. I try praying about it. Sometimes it helps. Most of the time it doesn’t.
Hm. Well, that turned out to be a much grimmer post than I expected. Oh well. It’s the truth.
Excluding this sentence, I used the word “I” twenty eight times in this post. That’s probably about average on this blog.