I like being viewed as the bad guy with good intentions. That is where the true “good” exists. The villain that actually does good, but is viewed as bad because of different perspectives. It’s like being a Republican or a Democrat — there’s a messy middle where most people live, but nobody likes them. Good exists only in the reality vacuum; human perception, incentives, motivations, etc. make it cloudy.
If I were reborn, I’d be a mercenary for hire. Taking select jobs that lined up with my morality and bank account. Risk should always be reflected in pay. You only lower your risk by becoming better. Why didn’t I choose that lifestyle?
My saving grace was my mother. She taught me what was nice, what was mean, what boundaries not to cross — as my own personality has always teetered between morality and what is morality. I can almost hear her voice in the back of my head: “You just don’t do that, Rudy.” Not loud, not mean, but in a stern voice with a look of disapproval. An occasional shunning after an insidious event committed by yours truly. I never wanted to disappoint someone who sacrificed so much for me.
Freedom as a kid was cheap. Leaving the house without telling anyone, coming back before 10 p.m. on weekdays for school, 2 a.m. on weekends. I learned to calculate my own risk with bumps and bruises, but I lived. There were consequences I didn’t foresee, like the emotional weight of doing something “bad.” The truth is I’ve always been smart enough to evade the most dire consequences in most scenarios — call it luck or fate. When nobody checks your math, those checks and balances remain internal.
My biggest fear is losing my mother, because I’m unsure what it will unlock. The person I know lurks, or the son who still wants to make his mother proud? Me outliving her saves her the pain, so I take the bullet for that one, for her. This goes into my risk analysis of life.
Power
Power. That’s what I feel a lot of the time. Because I’ve survived so much in my life, yet I’m still here, stronger than ever, I don’t feel like there’s anything I can’t do. Funny, coming from a bartender — even to me. In every job title, there is a reason.
A bartender controls the entire room. You have to be aware of every single person in there, on the micro level and the macro level. You say certain words to push or pull people in different directions, or link others together, because the clock is ticking. Your concept of time has to be on par, because time is money — it’s how you get paid. While all of this is going on, you’re listening to an order, making an order, and listening to every micro-conversation, watching for any changes in energy and the reasons behind them. Then, when someone signs out their ticket, you say the right words according to their assumed personality type, based on the few minutes you’ve gotten to know them.
If you can manage to do this well in a circular fashion, you will eat. If you can’t, you will starve. I’m a business, man.
Capability
Capability. It’s linked to power, which also has ties into capacity. The hard part isn’t having that discipline itself — the difficulty comes from being able to contain it. The capacity only grows when it’s challenged, stretched, rep by rep. Experience by experience.
I’ve felt this way in relationships before when I was wronged, not only romantically. The truth is I want all of us to win, and I go in with good intentions — and when someone gets close, then chooses to make me suffer, it’s a pain that cuts deeper than a knife ever could. To destroy them, or to make them suffer? It fundamentally changes me and requires active control, even if some leaks out through less destructive outlets.
If I survive, I just call it the cost of the game. Move on and become stronger. Take the higher ground, funnel that dark energy, and use it for good.
Backs Against the Door
She is my saving grace, but even that wasn’t just given. We suffered together early in life — she protected me, risked her own life, and made lifelong sacrifices. I’ll always draw back to the time my dad was on a drug binge. We locked ourselves in the restroom while he banged on the door and yelled for hours. It was cold. We covered ourselves with towels. That’s where we slept for the night — backs against the door. I was nine.
Being able to suffer for long periods of time is a superpower, a tool that can be used to win a game. If you can out-suffer someone, that means you can play games that hurt you both, and ultimately win.
That is one of many nights where I feel an eternal debt. This helped build my loyalty gene. Now, when I lock in with someone, I lock in. We suffer together, we eat together, we live together.
The Pressure
I don’t cry much, but I feel deep. I never let it come out, because I’m too busy controlling the narrative of other people’s comfort levels around me — making sure they’re okay, that they feel safe, because they are, with me around. The consequence is that so much gets held in, and the pressure builds. When it does come out, I’ll cry in rage, followed by manic bouts of laughter at this damning human experience. Sometimes hitting the punching bag does the trick, and sometimes I’ll simply get blackout drunk to forget anything ever existed. Rotating the three keeps the mind busy.
I love deep. The hate is also deep — though I direct it toward myself much of the time, because the alternatives are much worse. I’d rather lose than hurt someone; it’s never my goal from the beginning. Fighting human nature isn’t new for me.
Being able to exert yourself, take up space, expand — that’s a quality in itself, one that can be rewarded. It’s the behavior of a free individual, free from his own mind. There is no feeling akin to unlocking that cage.
Risk Analysis
Sometimes I don’t take the risk I need to, because it would mean my destruction. But it’s not self-preservation that powers this. It’s that people need me — my mother, in particular. If something happens to me, it hurts them, so I don’t take a defined risk above a certain threshold.
The risk comes in many forms. Opportunity risk — like not becoming a doctor, because of the time and debt it would cause, which would leave me exposed and unable to take care of people financially. Physical risk — what happens if I go down with a broken leg and can’t work? I’ve said no to traveling, and I stopped training MMA when my jaw was nearly dislocated after blocking a kick.
This draws back to capability: am I capable of exerting my personal power — a combination of physical, intellect, and emotion? Yes.
The Long Game
People oriented toward reaction make mistakes they can’t take back. They also lose the element of surprise. These people are easy to control. Want a particular action? Just press the X button to get the wanted response.
My father was a reactive person. On the front end, he exerted his power — but on the back end, he’s paying for it. It cost him his job at 46 years old, and then his ego sued the company. He won, but it was a bullshit case. He said they fired him because he’d hurt his back and were using that as an excuse. The truth was he’d gotten a manager position and started cussing out his employees, who were his friends. At home it was a similar story — times often weren’t great.
I’m a long-term thinker. I will wait years to get revenge, if it’s even worth getting at that point. The fear that I may get revenge lingers in the target’s mind, if they’re intelligent enough — compounding. Revenge is something we all want sometimes, but there’s a fallacy in it: it’s ego-driven, which means you’re exposed to more risk. You must preserve your castle and become impenetrable first, then you attack.
Everyone bleeds. Everyone has a pain point. There is no difference between anyone. If someone is better than me at a game, they’d better kill me, because from that point forward, I’m growing stronger.
Who’s Beside You
My human nature is mercenary-driven. My nurture was empathy and risk, given. The pain I’ve endured with people I cared about built the loyalty, the resilience, the capacity to suffer for a larger purpose.
Tell me — when your back’s against the wall and all hell is breaking loose, who do you want by your side?