I admire people who are audacious in wearing their hearts on their sleeve especially on social media where ‘Big Brother is always watching’. I might go bonkers depending on the circumstances surrounding your manner of outburst but somewhere at the back of my mind, I’m like “Damn! Such courage to post your nudes? Damn girl! Bravo!” The courage for me is usually the silver lining and the finer part of the ‘bad behavior’.
You know those reckless abandon stunt that happens in high school? Where an intractable junior student lands a very dirty slap on a power-thirsty prefect (or senior student) and the whole crowd goes berserk with cheers? That’s it! It’s heroic to me. Even after the incident is dead and buried, I would reminisce sometimes, smiling chin to chin.
Its mind thrilling for me and usually the closest I get to fictitious displays in heroic movies. Even though the student is punished severely for getting rude and physical, I see him/her as a hero who summoned the courage to glitch the indignation and breach of self-worth. Yes! I raise my glass and duff my hearts for these ones.
I love it when a person puts it outright to an authority that their administration is bullshit. We all know it is, but only one man got the balls to voice it. Shouldn’t we rather than cower, give him an obvious round of applause?
My idea of a hero is not the one who wears a cape flying around, looking for a house on fire to save a soul. My idea of a hero is not the one who feeds the hungry on the streets. Don’t get me wrong, I’m not invalidating the gesture or insinuating they are not ‘hero specs’, it’s just that by default, I am not fascinated by run-off-the-mill ideas and actions.
My idea of a hero is the one who embraces the need to be blunt when everyone else hops on the sentimental train. My idea of a hero is the one who understands that man’s love is flaccid therefore not everyone will be faithful in loving them. So without hoping for love and validation from society, they throw caution to the wind to live their best life.
I admire the one who knows not just to whisper “enough is enough” under their breath, but seize the moment to act upon it.
While some see these acts as attention-seeking and are offended by it, they get me in the right way. My guilty pleasure mounts on a flare for disobedience and reckless abandon. Perhaps I love it more because they reflect the secluded desires of my mind.
I crave to be like that sometimes. I wish I could say “enough is enough” to some bullshit like going to work every day for a crackpot who pays peanuts after forty days of enduring rigor. But the harder I try, the more I get sunk in hope that it will be over soon. The more I daydream about throwing caution into thin air, my conscience always pricks me with the “can you handle the outcome?” talk.