Responsibility and Labels

Let's do a little exercise.

- Think about...hmm...five of your friends names. Just their names.
- Put them in some order. Any order, it doesn't matter. Well at least not for this exercise, ask a shrink. I'm sure the order you put them in actually means you have some repressed daddy issues or something.
- Now think of their appearance. Whole body. In order.
- Now think of some words describing each one of them.

Was any of them "responsible?"

Now think of yourself being thought of by someone else, in this exercise. I'll give you a second to understand what I just asked.

You good?

Ok.

Do you think "responsible," popped up above your head? Maybe, maybe not. I'll tell you one thing. I myself, don't ever want that above my head.

Four years can seem to just fly by when you segment it like the American school system does. It's spring break now, and I've been think a lot of my next steps in life. I've said this before.

Responsibility sucks.

Sure, maturing and "growing up" is how I got to the subject, but this post isn't going to be about those woes. No, no. Responsibility, my friends, is the double-edged sword that has cut me more times than the piece of paper of a 1st grader trying to make a snowflake.

Do I describe myself a responsible person? Most certainly not, but I like to get things done, and I care for the things that matter to me. Too many times have I sacrificed my personal good time just to take care of that which holds a place in my life.

No one ever really wants to be the responsible one. That being said, you can't fight what you are. Being the responsible one is like being the guy you want to bring along for your trip, just because he'll watch your stuff.

I want to be respected. Not labeled.

Have you ever seen that episode of Daria (Who here watched Daria? Anyone?) where someone dies at her school, and everyone goes to her for death therapy? That is what it is like being the responsible one. Everyone goes to you...for work. Everyone comes to you...to rely on. Everyone goes to you...hoping to bail 'em out. Nobody ever comes to you...for a good time. Nobody ever looks up your number...cause you bring the fun.

Labeling people in general is bad. Having a label on someone, is almost like confining your opinion. People get surprised, sometimes, about how people act or when learning certain things. I prefer to question first, how much do you know about a person? How much are you basing your thoughts about a person on knowledge, and how much are you simply inferring?

This post was supposed to be better, but I'm getting tired of writing. Now comes the time to leave you with something poignant.

Labels, good on a can, not on a man.

(I need to blog more, this sucked.)