Bad-Attitude-Man:

Ever since I erupted in the Doctors office, I've noticed the staff there have granted me more respect. And on my next visit, I waited about three minutes to see the Doctor. Is this more related to the hour of my appointment or other factors outside the realm of my control. I'm not sure. In any event, the factors and conditions are not outside of the realm of my imagination.
--
I try not to read anything. Wouldn't want it to corrupt my natural prose style.
--
You are what you do. You cannot exist as anything other what you do. If you imagine possibilities for yourself and concoct schemes but rarely see any to fruition, then you are none of the things you imagined. You are only what you do. And since all you do is plan and scheme and fantasize then all you are is a scatterbrain.
A person who acts is an actor. It's not enough to fashion yourself a neo-DeNiro. You have to actually get out there and do it. Stop talking about it and do it. As DeNiro would say.
--
The amount of people in the world has changed our archetypal structure. The idea of community has changed completely such that it is indistinguishable from the former notion. The only acts that follow you are the most heinous. Every other action is lost in the sea of humans, rendered inconsequential immediately. It doesn't matter that you think/believe this or that. Even permenent actions have no bearing as basically no one cares. The rise in popularity of tattoos has something to do with this. I haven't quite worked it out yet. But it's a way for people to acquire supposed uniqueness--when they are constantly reminded how anonymous and meaningless they are. All communities and humans are fungible. To change is simply a matter of physical relocation, which when you clearly consider the impediments, is frighteningly easy.
--
My household's cat is nearly full grown. I watched this nameless animal grow from a kitten to a cat with no surprise except how seamless and dull the entire process has been. You give the animal food and water and it changes from a rodent into a mundane housecat with no fanfare. In the mornings, it sometimes greets me in the bathroom while I'm shaving by figure-eighting my legs and purring. People may think it's special or some kind of bonding experience when you make your cat purr. It's not special. It's what cats do. I loathe this cat and have done nothing nice to it at all. When it gets in my way or in my room I forcefully remove it. And yet it still uses my legs to purr.

Although recently my heart as warmed. Sometimes I find myself seizing it and petting for a while. Not for the cat's sake but for my own. Ten minutes of this nonsense and the edges of my anger are dulled.
--