Friday, January 1, 2021

A 2021 RESOLUTION: ESCHEWING TOXICITY


I don't like to editorialize (or gripe) much for "bizarrechats", but on occasion I do. Last year, I did so for the advent of 2020, with an intended emphasis upon my "self worth" (for a lack of a better term) and those who took delight in stripping me of it. Little did I realize that 2020 would adapt a shocking, pandemic scheme, making most personal issues minuscule by comparison. 

Good-hearted folks now tell me that 2021 will be better than the year prior (and I appreciate their gracious optimism), but I suspect the much hyped new year will be just another virulent humdinger, considering what dire writing is on the wall. Yep, I do fear we're in for more tough times, friends, enough to make 2020 look like a la-di-da stroll through the park. 

I realize the futility in stopping the inevitable, but I do plan to curb some (if not much) of my anxiousness. This will come from distancing myself from as many toxic characters as I can (and I don't mean that famous, Troma avenger from NJ, ha-ha) by focusing (for one) on activities that I enjoy, despite the fact that my day job inundates the evening hours, and toxic employees invade that space every goddamn chance they get.

It's hard (no, make that impossible) to eschew toxicity on the work front, but there are many others of the same ilk who crawl forth from the extracurricular sidelines. They often pose far greater annoyance. 

One just reared his unwelcome head in late December by sending me a fold-out Christmas card. The gesture may not sound offensive on the surface, but this clod has sent me cards for several years now, and they typically exude a condescending tone and/or insinuated contempt. This card (and yes, I found the foolish gumption to tear it from its envelope) wasn't tainted by his usual, condescending scribble, but rather held an implied derisiveness in its snooty expense. In other words, the ornate token was a way to say that, though the sender considers himself "disabled" and can't work due to his acute cravenness (yep, I'm serious), he can afford the pricey kind of card that he believes I can't (though I can; I've just grown frugal). He evades his essential responsibilities (like holding a job), and through his convoluted rationale (as buried in the card's otherwise merry context) believes that those who pay their dues deserve ridicule, while rubbing in the fact that he's beating the system. (Considering the many people who should receive disability payments and don't, I find his vantage not only selfish, but criminal.)

I discarded the card (actually, I tore it up into many tiny bits, and man, did that ever feel good!) and sure as hell didn't reciprocate by sending him one from my lovely, dollar-store box set. Why give the pompous ass the satisfaction, even if my proper, cold shoulder hasn't thus far dissuaded him. (Incidentally, did I mention that this character has habitually besmirched my sick wife, labeling her a moronic gold digger with "some sort of disease"; he's even made it a villainous point to dismiss my New Pulp pursuits as inferior and a waste of time, while he slithers in the corners, wallowing in his imprudence. And that's just the tip of the ugly iceberg. Oh, how I could go on!) 

Alas, this bum won't be the last to insult me as the days and months roll by. Other embittered culprits are destined to surface to jab me through emails and Facebook messages, for no other reason than it makes them feel superior. Like the aforementioned cretin, they accomplish nothing, but to feel better about themselves (to blunt their self-enforced dilemmas) belittle those who have the courage to go the honorable, extra mile.

For the sake of 2021, I'll delete and/or block their vile verdicts, as opposed to slapping back at them as I've done by foolish practice. I've deduced that they take delight in my heated rebuttals, which imply that their opinions hold weight. Their opinions don't; so why should I work up a vengeful sweat? (On the other hand, here I am composing a fiery acknowledgment of their antics, but perhaps this post should be considered a cathartic epitaph to their oozing toxicity. Besides, I doubt they'll visit my blog to read this entry; from what they've expressed, they consider my "chats" frivolous and unworthy. By tradition, their sneak attacks spring from baseless, uninformed whim.)

At any rate, I may not be able to squash the melancholia that 2021 will likely heap through its peculating scares and lies (and yes, it's already spilling over; just check the profuse propaganda in the mainstream news), but I can certainly win some of the small battles along the line, like keeping my adversaries at bay (and that also means surrounding myself with smart, supportive people), while continuing to create and above all, fight the good fight as any respectable, working bloke can. 

Well, that's my New Year's stance, and rest assured, I'm stickin' to it. 

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