My Quiet Life of Desperation

Sometimes I question whether I’m missing some piece of mental machinery every human is supposed to have.  Some essential brain cog of empathy or social deftness that would enable me to understand other people’s actions, or more importantly, my own.

 

It’s like this.  I’m confronted with a situation any ordinary person would see as easy to deal with and my mind runs a million miles a minute trying to put the pieces of this great social puzzle together in order to come up with the appropriate response.  My heart’s tearing me one way, telling me to run, run as fast I can, and my mind’s gently coaxing me in the opposite direction saying I should stay and fight the panic.

 

“We can do this,” my brain whispers.  “It’s just a couple variables plugged into some great social algorithm we have yet to discover.  Just crack the code, crack the code…”

 

I want to choose to fight, but more often than not it’s flight that I choose after a couple of feeble jabs.

 

It’s not that I’m some big social pariah or even that one could tell I’m having a hard time dealing with the occasional social situation, but it’s clear as day to me of course.  I’ll feel like I’m in an episode of Spongebob Squarepants where the driver’s ed. teacher, Mrs. Puff, tries to teach Spongebob to drive through a simple obstacle course.  There’s always someone in my brain screaming “Floor it! FLOOR it!”  

 

It’s frustrating.

 

Luckily my socio-emotional car wrecks don’t end in any physical casualties that heal by the very next t.v. episode.  But I still have to deal with emotional wreckage.

 

No.

I’m being dramatic. 

 

Wreckage is too strong a word for it.  It’s not as if I slap people and insult their mothers every time I feel socially gangly and awkward. 

 

I might just give a one word response to an essay-like question or offer a cold one-handed wave rather than a warm two-armed hug.  Just little things.  But these little things can make a big difference when it comes to relationships, and I feel at a loss when I have to deal with the after-effects with no sane explanation for my actions.

 

I mean, what do I say?

 

“Sorry, I was having a mini-emotional breakdown, but I’m better now.  We still good?”

 

Maybe I’m still just being dramatic and even the average ‘Normal Guy’ has these breaks in reason, but I wouldn’t know.  I’ve never considered myself “normal.” 

 

~LDA

Building a Self Image

I feel like it’s once you hit the 4th grade that you start questioning how cool you are.

How hip.

How on the level.

How legit.

At first you judge yourself based on what you yourself think is cool, but then you quickly realize that when it comes to the world, they care more about what they think. So you start to conform and forget about your own opinions.

And it just gets worse as we grow older,

but hopefully we reach a point when we realize that most of the world is basing their judgements of “cool” off of what others are doing anyway.

Including you, who is basing yourself off of what the world is doing,

thus creating a vicious circle.

It’s at that point that maybe, just hopefully, you realize that you’re in fact the coolest person around.

That is, only if you come to terms with being totally and completely uncool.

Yes, you read right.

Uncool is where it’s at.

You discover the truth that if you derp around confidently enough, others will almost unfailingly follow you.

In truth, this is basically the primary law of the entire “Hipster Movement,” if I go so far as daring to affiliate myself with such a thing.

“If I walk around in these uncool clothes, with this uncool attitude, and my uncool ideas with just the perfect amount of confidence, then the world will submit to my views because I’ll have convinced them they simply must be missing something if someone like me manages to walk around with as much conviction as I do,” the dutiful hipster thinks to themselves.

And better yet,

I’ll manage to convince them, and myself, that I don’t even care what they think to begin with. Because who wants to be mainstream, anyway?”

Perhaps regrettably, there is a grain of truth to this logic in that if “you” just “do you” you’ll end up looking put together no matter how scattered you really may be, simply by virtue of being comfortable in your own skin.

People will look at you and think, “Gee, that person isn’t looking to the left and to the right every five seconds to see what everyone else is doing like I am. They must really know what they’re doing.”

Because those hipsters, they were really onto something.

That is of course untileveryone started trying to be “hipster cool” by being uncool, thus negating their uncoolness, which if they actually took a moment to think about it brings them back to being truly uncool…because they’re only trying to be uncool because it is cool, which is decidedly, uncool.

‘Naw mean?

In other words,

My true derpaloids are only those who derp truly.

Shout out to you derpaloids.

You the real MVP. 😉

~LDA

-~- Welcome, Fellow Derp

If you’ve ever had one of those moments where you realized you’d done something so stupid that you just had to laugh at yourself, you’re in the right place.

You know…

One of those moments where you had to facepalm yourself just hard enough to verify that there was actually a brain rattling around in that skull of yours.

Or maybe just one of those moments where you felt like you had something interesting to add to this conversation we call life, but were too afraid to share for fear it wouldn’t come out the way you wanted.

If you’ve at all found yourself feeling like any of the above, I think this is just the little corner of cyberspace for you.

Why did I name this blog derp2derp?

Well, in order for me to answer that question I should probably clarify the meaning of the word derp, JUST in case some of you reading this don’t already know it.

  Sooo…

What does the word derp mean? 

Here’s a couple definitions:

Courtesy of Urban Dictionary:

derpy-awkward or embarrassing, especially pertaining to a person:

“Man, that guy is so awkward!”
“Yeah, he’s really derpy.”

Courtesy of Myself

herp derp (or simply derp)-a person who is doing or has done something unusually dopey and/or laughable:

“Ouch! I just walked into the sliding door because I thought it was open.”

“Hahaha.  You’re such a herp derp.”

(the terms “herp derp” and “herpaderp” have also been known to be used in rage comics in order to substitute dialogue)

SO, WHY THE NAME derp2derp?

If we’re honest with ourselves, we all know that we have moments that bring out our inner derp and this blog is a way for me to share some of those moments with you.  I find that my inner derp surfaces quite a lot (probably more than I’d like) and I figured if I’m going to be plagued with the disease of herpaderpitis, I might as well do something productive with it.  From failing at holding simple conversations to everyday ruminations about the value of life, I’d like to give you a chance to both laugh at my silly everyday mistakes and hopefully, share some of your own derpy stories in return.  I’d also like to share my thoughts on various matters and hear what you guys think yourselves.  It doesn’t matter if you think my thoughts are off the wall bogus or genuinely interesting.  I’d like to turn this into a space where everyone is free to share their thoughts.  I’d like to hear from you.

Life’s too short to waste time being embarrassed by failure.

Why wince at failure when you can laugh?

Let’s derp it up.

~LDA