be good

I don’t know exactly why but all throughout the day I tell myself I should shut up and keep myself to myself. Somehow I always end up joking around with other people, without really wanting it.
We sit in a group of six and they’re constantly talking and chatting and making jokes and gossiping about other people and I don’t want to play a part in it. Because I know that they will be gossiping and talking about me behind my back when I’m not there. I always end up joining them poking fun at everyone and everything. It makes the time spent in the office seem more pleasant, for them, for sure, for me too, but it’s such a wretched and disgusting attitude that I feel somewhat ashamed of associating with them.
I feel like I want to be kind to other people. I just want to be myself, Worry about my insignificant half-thoughts, They are so obvious all of them, these little things they say which they suppose is going to make them feel more important than the rest. And I feel like a hypocrite because I’m nice to everyone when I really should be telling them to go to hell.
Maybe those who don’t have these thoughts live happier. They may think that because they never get upset, never say a bad word, always smile and are always polite,they’re good people, when in reality they don’t take anything serious and make fun of people who take things to the heart. I’m no sissy, I’m not being mobbed, my character is just too strong, the surface, this evil look of mine has always held everyone in check, and I don’t really care what they say behind my back. In fact I do care, but it doesn’t really hurt me, I’m just curious I guess, who other people perceive me. \
All this may not make much sense. I’m just trying to get some thoughts out of this dumb head.

I’ve been watching my reactions closely. There’s a guy sitting next to me at work he’s constantly trying to assert himself as being my superior. I am the administrator, he is the senior administrator and that’s the reason he thinks he can boss me around to do anything that may be too tedious or unimportant for him to do himself.
Yesterday afternoon I told him , – “ Why don’t you do it yourself , for once ? “ – I litterally exploded in his face.
We usually go on well together but without wanting to appear condescendent, I can say that I do my job very well and I know exactly what tasks I’m suppose to take care of and I absolutely don’t need to be bossed around like this.
This guy, even though he is very nice , he’s got these little manic fits. For example, he’s been humming the “ Seven Nation Army tune “ for 2 years , every hour. Every time he humms this tune I feel like cracking his skull open with my the big stapler on the cupboard behind me.
This morning I haven’t spoken a word more than I had to. I just look to the pile of work in front of me, trying to stretch it such as not to have to talk to this asshole.
When I think about the goal of “ being good” I get a little discouraged. One should not imitate the one who offends you. But I am acting naturally , or not ? I mean if I was sitting here pretending that nothing was wrong I would be a liar ?
Ah ! there he is again, in the middle of one of his fits, brushing invisible particles of dust from his suit for a whole minute – ! He leaned over to my desk to explain me some details on a file and his breath smells as if he had swallowed a rotten fish… yerghh.. Ok, I’m being mean now, but it’s true.
And one last thing – He is such a proud patriotic Frenchman with a ridiculous accent and the vocabulary of a two year old, when he speaks English I often feel like laughing out loud … and I know that deep inside he must be a fervent racist… aaah, stop… enough, now…
What a dreadful morning…

Each morning in the bus on my way to the office I think about my life. I look out the window, at the fields covered in snow, the first buds on the trees, the sun rising in summer, the bright fiery autumn foliage, the slumbering gray skies in winter…. And I ponder on the incomprehensible flux of time, why I’m here, my uncertain destiny, my loneliness, why things are like this, or like that, why I feel crap, why it is that I feel so inexplicably happy, what is this all about…
Today I realized something important. I have to be a good person. Anything else doesn’t matter. If I concentrate on living my life with dignity, doing my job properly, caring for the people around me, and if I concentrate on a couple of values that mean something for me and my world instead of focussing on this deep dark abyss that is my soul, I think that I can be happy.
Looking back, I’ve accumulated so much anger throughout my adolescence that today, at 28 I am unable to see clearly. My impulses are erroneous and incontrollable, caused by the filth that dominates my soul. I’m nervous, fearful , distrustful, cynical.
I have to stop reacting like a child and start being a man, not a fool, but a righteous man.
I don’t want to be good just for the sake of being praised for it, I want to feel secure in my life, and I can only feel that way by having a clear conscience. If I know that I’m a good person, I will have no fear.