Some People Who Like Art

Some people reading this have great personal taste. And by personal taste I mean they have their own identity. They posses an admirable amount of good taste that belongs to them. They didn’t copy my taste or stupidly claim it as their own in an attempt to fool me or to try to be relatable in an accidentally offensive way. No. Instead…they inspired me to watch films I wouldn’t have watched otherwise or consider authors I’d not considered. Not Henry James, Fitzgerald or Waugh of course (or many others) but other genius authors I’d unfortunately rarely heard mentioned over the years. They had and have irreplaceably good taste. They didn’t need to copy my taste and yet I always had hoped they’d have respect for my taste as well, even if it wasn’t their own and they didn’t like it as much. Sometimes they did and sometimes they did not…

But…why would some other people copy my taste? The people I found most obnoxious? …Well, those people probably lack a good sense of self or they are trying to do what’s called “putting on airs”. *smile* They perceived me as admirable and eventually perhaps even “old money” and wanted to give off that impression as well. Or they were trying to steal my taste and use it to better themselves in the eyes of others in general or perhaps they just wanted to hurt me. People can be weird when they’re angry enough and can’t easily handle something about their own experience.

…I’ve discussed it a million times but here’s the definition of old money: “the inherited wealth of established upper-class families” or “a person, family, or lineage possessing inherited wealth”. (Wikipedia) My family (on both sides) has money we gained through investments (Actual well calculated, brilliant investments not just pretend ones. But that really should go without needing to be elaborated or explained and it’s pathetic that people are too stubborn, ignorant and conceited to even truly want to fully understand.) made over a hundred years ago on both sides. Money I’ll inherit and have inherited. Money I’ve used carefully and (hopefully) wisely and that I’ve also (hopefully) used to better other people’s lives as well. Some of those investments paid off handsomely in the last twenty years. Other investments started paying off almost 50 years ago. Other investments were profitable about a hundred years ago. Some people became millionaires in my family when that still meant something. A literal lifetime or two ago now. Some weren’t… *shrug*. Whatever. And there’s some other impressive pieces of family history on both sides I suppose as well. Again, whatever. *shaking head* There are some impressive people who are alive now too.

And…I’ve had to figure a lot of these things out for myself. Some bits and pieces were shared with me by family members but other facts were downplayed or not shared at all. Relabeled. Phrased and packaged overall in a way that gave me the wrong idea, to be honest. I’ve explained this. Most of my family on both sides are incredibly humble and/or very private.

Honestly, I’ve explained too much of this already. So many times. People forget what I’ve told them or maybe misremember it at times too? If it’s too hard to believe it all or understand it? *shrug* I’ll have to let you be confused I guess. I truly can’t and refuse to say more in detail, especially at this point. It’s disgusting that I felt the need to ever say anything to begin with. You shouldn’t have to defend yourself that much. Have your sincerity or authenticity doubted to such an absurd and pathologically bizarre degree just because it scares people. And don’t think I don’t know that it scares them even if I’ve never fully understood why (speaking of things people struggle to fully comprehend). But I am sorry if it’s offended anyone in a way that indicates their actual goodness, sense or better judgement (almost none of my so-called “haters” are likely unfortunately included in that group of individuals).

The thing is…I swear I wouldn’t have shared any of it but for the fact that I truly felt attacked and belittled and picked apart by people who seemed to give off the feeling that they wanted to actually be superior to me or to convince me they were superior regardless of reality. Online. And, after being viciously bullied growing up by (genuinely) well-off, often new-monied jerks who condescendingly told me I “…reminded them of Diane” from Cheers in their kindest moments – “you’re so different” – I really had absolutely no tolerance for people’s rudeness, bullying or passive aggressive nonsense. I tried to ignore people’s ick or be kind for years until I just couldn’t take it. I lost my ability to humor people’s arrogance and conceit.

I’m not heartless. It’s been annoying to have my words misconstrued to mean that I am heartless by people who I wouldn’t think would misunderstand… I do realize that, sadly, some people aren’t as fortunate as others and actually I’ve often wondered if they (the bullies) realize that fully. Do they give to those in greater need than themselves or just use all their funds to look rich? I genuinely hope they give. Still, considering how hateful and manipulative and deceitful some people seem at this point I worry at least a few of my “haters” are too self-preoccupied to care about anyone or anything they can’t use. And what lies are they telling? Perhaps a lot of their quick assumptions and lack of curiosity about the actual truth of others came and comes from their self-awareness of their own lies and pretensions. Their own lack of real concern for others. But I hope not.

Should I go on?

…You know…people really are all different. Some people are gifted with talent that probably edifies their souls. An ability to appreciate true beauty. …And I suppose I shouldn’t be so hard on some other people who have bullied me. There are those who were jealous and then there were those who live lives that are maybe too difficult for me to fully comprehend unless they were honest and self secure enough to explain. And not just lives where they have to wait and sparingly buy Chanel pearl necklaces and suits but lives where they question if one can be truly loved. Not just…them…but anyone. *mirthful laugh* Or maybe they don’t know what love (of any variety) even is… If you do know count yourself unfathomably lucky.

…My samples arrive tomorrow. I guess I’ll write even more then.

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