no…i wear the black hat

my response to chuck klosterman’s book i wear the black hat

am i trying to be a villain or is it just that i really don’t give a fuck?

should i try harder to be the villain? 

at best, i am unlikable. maybe i should go for the gold and become loathsome? 

i have always wondered if my art and writings would gather a larger audience if i were notorious. infamous. maybe i just need to try harder at being a villain. 

why am i unlikable? is it my go fuck yourself attitude? i know i’m not physically unattractive. i have even been called beautiful on occasion. however, i don’t follow the conventional rules for beauty. i don’t wear makeup. i rarely comb my hair. i often shave my head. piercings and tattoos and a wardrobe mostly made up of black. boots instead of shoes. my uniform does not encourage positive attention. it tells the world i just don’t give a fuck.

should i just go ahead and don the black hat?

i often tell myself i’m not doing enough to be a good person. so then i go out and do something like…foster a puppy. i thought, i have experience with fostering animals and am an experienced dog trainer. i should give back to society by fostering a dog. 

and seemingly without a second thought, i found a puppy living in my house.

and then i started to slowly lose my mind.

i don’t like taking care of things. anything. my first boyfriend, while laying in a fetal position on the floor, was like, “would you take care of me if i had polio?” and i was all like, “no!!”

i don’t like taking care of things.

yet i think i am supposed to take care of things. because i am a woman? because i am supposed to be nurturing? because i want to make the world a better place? because that’s what good people do?

periodically through my life i would quit my easy restaurant job (that allowed me brain space to still write and do art) to take a caretaking job. nursing home, daycare, homeless shelter, humane society, etc.

and each time i would burn out. i am empathetic to a fault. i care too much, if that is a thing. so caretaking leaves me drained. compassion fatigue, they call it. i become dead on the inside because i have drowned in my own empathy. 

that’s not a thing, you might say…but it is the best way for me to explain why i cannot be a caretaker.

i probably never should have had kids.

but i do have kids and taking care of them and taking care of me is all i can do. 
so why do i keep telling myself i should be doing more? why do i do something like apply to foster dogs when i am already at the very limit of my very limited caretaking ability?

do i really think it makes me a better person?

it does not. i become horrible and brittle. angry and reactive. 

how many times a day do i threaten to strangle the puppy. sure, he can’t understand english, but how much is my negative energy harming him? my inability to cuddle and pet him because i just want to throw him out a window? 

i would not throw him out a window. 

i know this about myself. as horrible as i am, the little voices are just that. voices. they have no control. i just listen to them to the extent of imagining what it would be like to give in to them.

but then i tell myself to knock it that fuck off, and i feed the puppy and try to talk to him in a nice voice.

i heard myself tell an acquaintance in a pubic market that i wanted to strangle the puppy. i thought, oh, maybe i shouldn’t say that out loud, but then i realized i didn’t care what anyone might thing of me.

i’m not going to strangle the puppy. 

i’m just frustrated.

frustrated with the dog rescue that offers no support, dropping off a puppy without any resources.

frustrated with myself for once again taking on more than i am capable of doing. yes, physically i can care for a puppy…but mentally and emotionally? nope. too much.

i need to stop trying to prove to myself and the world that i am a good person.

i need to admit that i am not nurturing.

i am not a caretaker.

but does this make me a villain? 

chuck klosterman said that a villain knows but doesn’t care.
except hitler who cared but didn’t know? (i’m still not clear on that one.)

i know…and i care…but i’m all out of fucks to give.

giving a fuck would surely destroy me.

and that’s probably what makes me a villain.

up top: “roadtrip to oz” 9X12 mixed media on watercolor paper…$75


3 thoughts on “no…i wear the black hat

Add yours

  1. Somewhere in there I catch the scent of a meditation on limits and boundaries, maybe something along the lines of, “When it come to giving fucks, start with yourself and then see how many you have to spare for things that really matter.”.

    Liked by 1 person

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