A delightful introduction

"He who makes a beast of himself rids him of the pain of being a man"                                                                  - Dr. Johnson

Back at the place I love doing the things I loathe. I always end up disappointing myself, work is piling up around me and here I sit typing away my inane ramblings simply to try and vent. Why this drive to self destruction? I am constantly working towards some final glorious apocalyptic end, my decisions lack insight, thought and time. I choose to throw away my most crucial resource into late nights and aimless afternoons. I am Hank-Gunn and this is what I fear I have to say, question and regurgitate into this foul year of our lord.

Sundays are days of anxious breaths in the morning, feelings of guilt cramping in my chest for not going to church. Last night once again, managed to not only wipe my memory, it broke me physically and emotionally, so now I will embark on one of those hellishly introspective Sundays. Breakfast is long gone and missed, the cup of bitter black coffee has become a sign of my uselessness, so lazy and distraught that I find it impossible to gulp it down while still hot. I smell like cigarettes, wine, lipstick and sweet perfume. The girl next to me is breathing rhythmically, her dark hair a tangle on the pillow.

I lie back and start fretting about the week to come; my heartbeat slows down and sleep envelopes me. I wake up with the sensation of someone stroking my back. “Sorry about that I tend to get a little out of hand, but thanks anyway I had fun, what time did we get home?”  These redundant conversations are what make me cringe and at the same time feel that inexplicable surge of life. I feel as if through my own stupidity I am able to create an image of myself through the eyes of others.

How does my perception of myself correlate with what people see and think when they meet me? Don’t we all strive for some ultimate version of ourselves, we all create little pictures of ourselves in our minds and then try to become that person in the picture, the picture keeps on changing and so we keep on changing and moulding ourselves desperately trying to become that what we want to be. My question remains, how does the self perception of an individual differ from that which other people have of the same person? Is there something like being true to yourself when the self can be regarded as being a construction made up of what I want to be and what other people think you are?