Boxes full of me

I have noticed that most people like to put me in a box. The boxes may be labelled any (but never all) of the following:

1. Quiet
2. Creative
3. Restrained
4. Book worm
5. Loud
6. Mad/ crazy
7. Bizarre
8. Fun
9. Studious
10. Awkward/ clumsy

I just read an article by Shobha Narayan, and she was talking about her character, or lack thereof...
Basically, she related an incident where she got into a screaming fit with her brother, and her mother told her that only those people who take the 'higher road' (read: offer the other cheek) in a fight have character.

This is pigeonholing. The columnist's mum has straitjacketed all the world's character into a tiny little space, and the poor thing cannot even protest. I ask you, is this fair?

I have screaming fits too, and they're also aimed at my brother. He's the only one who can motivate me into shrieking utter rubbish, and throwing things at him. Ms. Narayan said she resisted throwing a plate at her brother because it was made of stainless steel, and would therefore not shatter into a million pieces. I would have thrown the steel plate. I would probably have thrown a hammer at my brother, if one were available, and if I could have managed to lift it. When I get furious enough, it's better if he just backs up against a wall, cowering under whatever pathetic attempt at armour he has have managed to conjure up. I will throw things, and I have very good aim.

With Close friends, I tend to be more patient. I don't really know why, but yeah, that's how it is. Perhaps because it's a rather rare occurrence that I lose my cool with these blessed individuals anyway- I think it has a lot to do with how they know every damn thing about me, that if they ever did stoop down to my level, they would have lots of material for blackmail. They also know how to calm me down. Others (acquaintances/ people I don't know/ other random people)? They're really not important enough for me to loose my breath over. You screwed up. You can go to hell. Or not. Just don't bother me again for the next week or so.

When I was in seventh grade, I got so irate that I blacked out. This happened twice. I was... thirteen.

So, yeah. I have anger issues.

Does that mean I'm lacking in character?

I crave solitude, stillness.

I love those long peaceful walks when it's warm and sunny but not scorching hot, and the trees all seem to have a story to tell, if only I could just learn their language.

The equanimity of a thunderstorm.

I like to think, and I have an over zealous imagination.

I love reading. Books are my secret hideout. The place I run to, and I believe the only place I will ever truly find complete acceptance. I also love the whole super- hero- going- on- a- quest- to- save- the- world thing. Or even the not- so- super- hero- going- on- a- quest- to- save- the- world thing. Although, those are not the only kinds I enjoy.

I like- no, I LOVE shopping. I don't mind eating either, though it is kind of repetitive.

I'm a responsible citizen- I registered myself as a voter. I don't throw stuff on the streets. I reported the irresponsible security arrangements at one of the Metro stations.

I like my planet, too. I know what the Kyoto Protocol is, and I try to diminish my carbon footprint.

I tend to be critical. Judgemental. I'm also one of the most compassionate people I know.

I can NEVER concentrate unless my exam is the next day.

I like making friends, and I like keeping them, but I also know when it's over- and I can let go.

I love colours. Really. I also think that everyone should know something about foreign relations, and most things about the politics of their country.

I'm a hopeless romantic, and I do believe in love. I think it's real- though just because love is real, doesn’t mean that it is common. It is a rare phenomenon, something that happens to a handful of lucky people who deserve it. I just don't believe I am one of those people.

I think Marriage is a bit of a sham. I feel it is defunct. If the reason is happiness, it doesn't serve the purpose anymore. If the reason is to procreate, it never really did serve the purpose- after all, matrimony is hardly the reason behind kids. The reason, to me, seems to be biology.

I like blogging too, and I enjoy facebook. I like talking.

I love to find out. Ask questions, you know. At school I was often called a 'question bank'.

Really, there are a thousand other things I do. A million different reasons I am. How can these people just put me into one of their mental 'boxes'. That's not what I am- that not all I am.

So... I'd kind of rather lag behind a bit on the character aspect, than miss out on all this.

Oh, and I just found out today, while typing this out- the Blogger spell check does not know how to spell 'doesn't'

Ha!