Some of my friends describe me as a megalomaniac. I can’t refute that, because it’s a valid assessment that I ought to pay careful attention to, and learn from. To be is to be perceived. (I love and adore these friends very, very much- people who have the guts to stand up to you and tell you what you need to hear, these are the people that we have to honour, cherish, admire and surroud ourselves with.)

My actions are definitely consistent with a megalomaniac’s, so it’s surely valid to describe me as such, unless you want to bring in the problem of induction, in which case all descriptions are invalid, anyway. So let’s say that it’s reasonable to describe me as a megalomaniac. But I personally don’t see myself that way. (If you’re interested in what I have to say about myself.)

I’ve never been particularly interested in power. No, seriously. Power for power’s sake has never been much of a motivation for me. I’ve always been a trickster rather than some sort of authority. I do things for pleasure and fun, not power. Alexander the Great had lots of power, but he never sat around to enjoy it. He was always doing what pleased him- which was travelling around the world. (Conquering vast amounts of territory, and making everyone his bitch, but hey.)

You could say that I enjoy the sound of my own voice- but honestly, when I’m speaking, I’m not even listening. I interrupt people all the time (I’m trying to change this, I swear!), not because I think I’m more important, but because I’m not thinking at all. The ideas in my head (that do NOT belong to me, let me be clear) jump out against my better judgement. I’m equally fine with being interrupted in turn- to me, I prefer rapid discussions where attention is given to the best idea, regardless of who it’s from. If you have something better to share, cut me off, by all means!

That said, I am working on changing things, because- again- to be is to be perceived. It doesn’t matter what I’m thinking on the inside if it doesn’t make sense to others. There are no facts, only interpretations- and if everyone’s interpreting something differently from the way I’m interpreting it, it makes more sense for me to adapt to them then to expect them to adapt to me.

But I swear, I’m not as arrogant and self-absorbed as I come across to be. I think a more accurate description would be to consider me naive. (In fact, I think this is often the case for most people. Most people aren’t mean, evil, cruel- they’re often naive, incompetent, uncertain, unenlightened. That includes me, by the way.)

I think too highly of people, and I forget that it’s hard for us to listen to someone and believe that they don’t have any ulterior motives behind their words. Somehow it’s hard to believe that someone might simply be sharing what’s on their mind because they feel some sort of inexplicable impulse to do so. Am I serving my ego when I share these ideas? It depends on whether you think I think that I’m actually responsible for these ideas. I don’t. I feel that I’m serving the ideas themselves. Of course, it then becomes gradually clear that simply sharing them outright isn’t the best way to serve them.

You see what you’re asking of me? You’re asking me to engage in deception- to be subtle, to hide things, to play the courtier.  (This is why politicians can’t be trusted- because we demonize those who speak the truth.) I was too naive to bother with such things. I was always completely frank. I always shared whatever was on my mind. I never bothered with a filter, because I trusted people too much. And strangely enough, I’d often hurt people because of it.

This is a truth that has taken me a long time to grasp- that being blunt and straightforward often bloodies more than it cuts. That sometimes you have to hide things from people to protect them. I find that to be an intellectually painful concept to bear, but it’s something that should at least be considered.

Megalomania is characterized by delusional fantasies of power, relevance and omnipotent. But I’m not powerful, relevant or omnipotent. Here’s my train of thought- if you don’t see any point in reading any of this, that’s fine. You’re free to go. You can leave at any time you like. But it’s relevant to someone. At the very least, it’s relevant to me. And I’m certain that it means something to more than a few others. And that makes all the difference.

I think we all have a duty to put out what we have inside our heads, to turn dreams into reality, to put words on paper. Someday, somebody might stumble upon something I’ve written and think “Hey, that’s what I needed to hear.” And to me, that is a wonderful process to be a part of. To me, that’s what living is: sharing.

I share my mind with everybody, because I thought not doing so would be selfish. But I realize that not everybody thinks that way. Some people resent hearing what you have to say. They only want to hear pearls of wisdom, not mindless drivel. They want to see success, not failure.

I’m a hedonist more than a megalomaniac, and I’ve always believed that one should share everything.

The funny thing is, every time somebody says “Yes, you should share everything!”, they always have a line that they don’t want you to cross. “Oh, you should have shared everything… except that.”

Nobody ever actually wants you to truly be yourself, warts and flaws and all. They want you to be what they want to see.

I could be resentful about the hypocrisy, or I could learn from it and adjust accordingly. Or I could be stubborn, and stick to my guns.

What am I going to do? I’m not going to tell you.