Tuesday, April 17, 2012
Confronting the enemy.
When I was a kid, my year six teacher told me that there is no such thing as a stupid questions, just stupid people.
He was one of those people that taught for the power trip, you know..."that" kind of vulgar
I distinctly remember him picking on a small group of our class, in particular, one of the quieter boys... Always the quiet kids because he was a fucking coward.
He would pick on me periodically, I'm sure he would have picked on me a little more had he not been terrified of the wrath of my mother... Who to be blunt, is fucking terrifying should you rub her the wrong way.
I remember my mother telling me once that people should never mistake her kindness for weakness, people rarely do more than once.
There was nothing kind about my year six teacher, he was the kind of jerk that would make kids cry and then encourage the other kids to taunt them, he made one boy pee his pants with his vile temper. He enjoyed it.
When he would yell the prominent purpley blue veins in his forehead would bulge, his face would turn Scarlett and sallow at the same time.
His nostrils old flare, little drops of spit would fly out at random trajectories from the corners of his mouth.
It was ugliness in its purest form.
I hated that guy. Hate is also ugly.
If you truly hate someone, they occupy far more space in your mind than anyone deserves.
When I left the confines of primary school, I never saw him again, and eventually never thought of him, unless on the rare occasion, he was discussed among those unfortunate enough to have been in his class, I never heard a kind word was spoken about him, or anyone speak of him without sharing something he did that negatively impacted them.
I recently found out that through the joys of extended family and marriage that this teacher has recently been inducted into my family.
I am slightly disturbed that I can not wait to see him again, I can not wait for him to learn that my kindness and quiet nature also, should never be mistaken for weakness.
I have so many things to say to him, far, far too many things, which only proves to me that he never really left my thoughts, just my conscious awareness... It makes me feel unnerved.
I am torn between the joy of that telling him exactly what I think of him and my disgust that he is in anyway associated with me.
Pathetically, I can also tell you that I know for a fact that my kindness, and quiet nature will never win out when it comes to being able to confront this dick head, I also know why.
Some people ooze black energy and negativity, it breeds within them and they dispense it every where they go,
The thought of being in the same room as this teacher simmers the black awfulness of being in his presence, even this many years later.
I can tell myself all I like that he deserves to hear everything I have to say, and he probably does, but the truth is that it is just a manifestation of his ugliness, negativity breeding negativity and I know this, because the thought of confronting him fills me with excited anticipation, however the mere thought of 'him' leaves me feeling angry and dark ...........but you know what?
I'm still going to do it anyway, and it will be delicious.
Ever really wanted to confront someone from your past?
That's all that's rattling around my brain right now.