[Ed: I meant to post this yesterday, but my crappy LJ.NET client didn’t want to work, and things got ultra busy, so I just found it sitting in my drafts folder. Enjoy.]

I don’t like politics. I don’t like them in the slightest. But wherever there is power, there’s politics and it’s just a fact of human existence. Using relationships with other people to jockey for a better position is a way of life and a part of the orders of things, from a small office all the way to the White House. There’s personal politics, and professional politics. I hate playing games with people, but if you want something bad enough, you learn how to play the game in order to win your prize.

Personally, I tend to view myself as a people person. By that, I mean that I enjoy the company of others and I like to be social. Whether it’s with my personal group of friends or perhaps at a convention where I get to meet a bunch of new people and listen to them talk about themselves endlessly. In that, I think and I have a commonly inquisitive nature about us. Learning about others helps us to understand the broad nature of humanity, and to me, trying to figure out the perspective of others is a part of my goal toward being a writer. I’m trying hard to prevent my own fears of intimacy to prevent me from getting close to others, and at times it doesn’t always work, but it seems lately I’ve been pretty open with myself. It comes and goes in waves, I suppose. One month of being open requires a month of being closed off. Like I’m recharging my batteries or something.

My personal politics tend to be a part of my that I keep under wraps. There’s no real need to talk about my thoughts on liberalism or conservatism. Whether or not I believe in one thing or another doesn’t define me as a person. How I conduct myself lends a small percentage to my political stance, unless I’m running for office, which I cannot imagine I ever will. My professional politics, on the other hand, make me very paranoid and I find myself constantly reading between the lines. I try not to say too much, but also say enough so as not to make myself out to be stand-offish. Some of it is genuine friendly conversation, while at times I feel as though I’m being openly appraised by others. Judgments need to be made; I need to be labeled so people can define me and then move on. If I’m an unknown quantity, then people will either become preoccupied with my presence, or they’ll begin to fear or dislike me. I used to be mysterious and closed off for a reason. I didn’t want to really open myself up for a letdown. More often than not, a job would be undertaken, then it would end, and I would move on. And the people that I bonded with over the course of those four or five months I worked the contract, I would never really see again.

Ken’s a good example as any, I guess. Though we tried hard to keep the communication open, eventually it died. I’ve never really recovered from that loss, though he lives in Las Vegas, now. Distance is something of a problem for us, and though he sends me an email form time to time, I’ll reply and then wait another 8-10 months before he replies again. It sucks. Ken was a good and close friend, and it was by his benevolence that I got to figure out a great many things that were going on in my life. He was like my older brother, and he showed his caring nature to me at times when I needed it the most. I never forgot that. If he ever were to contact me and ask me for a favor, I’d be out the door before he even said goodbye on the telephone.

That’s why I’m glad I have friends like Todd and . The lessons I’ve learned in the past lead me to believe that all good things must end. Eventually, something will happen that’ll end those friendships, which is why I take it upon myself to avail myself of their company as often as I can. If I’ve never said it before, let me say it now how much I appreciate you guys being there for me. You’re like the brothers I never got to have, but always wanted. I hope I can live up to the friendship you’ve shown me. Thanks.