It’s now been just one day past nine months since I quit my last job, and I have to tell you, the time I’ve spent away have been quite revealing.
I was never one to have respect for indifferent and apathetic authority, and it didn’t come clear to me until these past nine months. I have been expelled from three schools, all before I was ten years old; my mother let me home-school myself twice. I got in fights, arguments, yelling, and the like.
A part of me changed when I went to high school. You’d think that, a kid who didn’t get along in elementary, would have some real trouble in high school. But something changed; I think it was the first time I stopped giving a shit what the adults thought of me. I stopped caring about being a “good kid.” Up until I was 13, I attended church with my mother, even though my brothers and sisters didn’t, and I had the choice not to go.
It was in these four years that I began to realize that I have to stop caring about what people in authority want. Their objective was to get their pay; to get the good grades, to have someone approve of them — the same thing I was doing, and that was causing a constant uphill conflicting battle, of not giving a shit, and caring about what others think.
As you can guess, I didn’t date in high school. It wasn’t that big of an interest in mine, and even today, it isn’t. I’m not afraid to admit, I just want sex; but I’m also not willing to roll over on some girl and break her heart, get her hopes and dreams up. It’s not in my schedule to defile another person’s ambitions — the same thing that authority had constantly done to me.
I recall I cursed often — I still do, because language and meaning are subjective — and was sent to the principal with referrals in high school. The first, and each, time I did, I stood in front of the principal and tore the referral in half. I didn’t give a shit. I was even sent to detention one time, in the middle of class; I didn’t go — I just didn’t go. Nothing happened! Absolutely nothing happened!
This lesson was revealing to me that people in authority like to push their agenda for their own purposes, not mine. A fine lesson in being cooperative. I also got my second job in high school, and apparently, it was a requirement to get my work permit — because I was 16 — signed by the work experience teacher. So I brought it to him, and he was at lunch; I dropped it in his inbox, then came back to pick it up. He decided that he wasn’t going to sign it unless I was there when I gave it to him — as if I was acting like his boss, giving him paperwork to do his job, and he could say no. I basically told him to fuck off, and he can’t do anything about my employment. Once again, nothing happened because of it.
This taught me that, once authority knows they’re wrong about something, they’re less likely to punish those they threaten to punish. This really kicked in my mind that authority was full of shit — full of empty threats. That’s not to say I haven’t been punished for my indiscretions, but most of them are full of shit.
So, reflecting on this for the past nine months, and all the previous years of work, I’ve discovered I don’t care about authority figures — because they don’t care about me. Self-interest, without responsibility, while remaining indifferent and apathetic to the problems of those they’re supposed to care for. That is, until, their power is threatened; until they feel their position will be compromised.
This is who I am. My mother listened to and raised me on rock-n-roll, a music rooted in voicing opinions against the established order of bullshit. She taught me to not let people control you; don’t give them that power. At times I’ve found myself doing this, but I always end up getting out of it — taking away their power over me. Liberation and freedom.
I’ve also learned about myself that I’m not a fan of material possessions, but experiences. This is why I value writing, reading, and expressing one’s self with those who share a similar interest and life. It’s really difficult to find those people who share my interests; I’m usually surrounded by conservatives who grew up in a time that bigotry and media-molded minds are the norm. Bigger TVs, I bought one — 32 inch, but now, I have a 17 inch.
I’m generally not out-going. I spend much of my time indoors, and for the past nine months, in the same room. These nine months have revealed to me that I’m the kind of person that wants to be disconnected from this so-called fast-paced world, where everyone has to get everything they can get. It’s given me the realization that I don’t have the desire to constantly have messages, calls, and demands thrown at me; that I don’t care much for going out every weekend, or even more than once a month. I like my thoughts; they’re comforting, because I’m not arguing with myself based on some mindless reason, like something someone heard in the media, a politician, or in a religious authority that threatens humanity with doom and destruction.