I remember the person that I used to be. Was just a little younger. A year or two ago. I used to be snappy and sarcastic. Made snide, witty observations when someone said or did something stupid. I said it for the sake of humor, satire. Somehow hoping, I guess, that it would influence change in a way… maybe not for the person I was mocking, maybe the one who heard what I said. Or, it was to convince myself of something. I don’t know. I just think back to those times I let loose words that I shouldn’t have. Screamed them, occasionally. Remember the instant chill of regret in the back of my neck. I wondered what my face looked like, all contorted in anger as I yelled. Then I remember them: the people I hurt. Their timid expressions or pained eyes. I think about them sometimes… the faces, I mean. I know I shouldn’t have said what I did on most occasions. Somehow though, I guess I hoped that they’d get the message: something they did bothered me. Like it was just my meager way of suggesting change to them.

I still… still say things I regret. I’m working on it. I don’t think anyone has total control. But I see, all around me, people still discarding meaningful conversation for the sake of sarcastic banter and whatever. Just ignore the people that annoy you, they tell me. Just let the ignorant live in their own little bubble. Just walk away, don’t bother fighting. That mentality, though, that’s just never how I was. I have always been one to defend myself from ridicule and harassment, always trying to protect others from the same. Even though I’m trying to be a “good person”, I don’t let the bad walk away unscathed. I punish them for what they’ve done. Sometimes it means a fist to the face if they’ve hurt a girl. Other times, I obliterate them with the same words I used to use to hurt the people I loved. I try to see their weakest insecurity, then I hold it hostage in my hands… threaten to squeeze unless they apologize.

I have this mindset, you know. It’s not enough to be a good person and look out for yourself. You have to put people in their place sometimes. After all, that’s how I decided to try to be a better person: someone told me what an asshole I had become. Everyone needs to be humbled at some point, reminded of their own humanity. It’s for their own good in the long run. If no one says a word, if instead the whole world wavers before them and lets them walk over them… those people will never bother to look down and see the faces on the bodies they’re trampling.

I have always, as long as I can remember, been disappointed in people. So many people. It’s hard to feel good about yourself when you look around and hate everyone in the room. They’re not all bad people, of course. And just because someone is selfish or cruel sometimes doesn’t mean they’re hopeless. But I almost get excited when I see potential… people aware of their own humanity, humility, vulnerability. They’re kind or selfless or filled with naivete, still blinded by the beauty in the world that the rest of us have watched gather dust over these years. It’s nice to be reminded that someone understands somewhere. I try to drown my head with music, art, writing, films – the pinnacle of human potential, perhaps. It reminds me that all is not lost in the world. Not everything has been corrupted and mass marketed. Not everyone sits idly waiting for the next Tila Tequilla… there’s beauty to be discovered.

I wake up, disappointed, but I try to remember something Gandhi once said… “You must be the change you seek in the world.” Slowly, slowly… I try to recite those words in my head. I try to be a better person than the day before. Try to tell people, politely, what they’re doing wrong. So maybe one day, when I’m sitting in a room, I’ll have someone to talk to…

Maybe it’s you.