“Oh, when will I get the life of my dreams?”
Perpy was a dreamy boy. Ever since he was young, he had great aspirations and unlimited hopes for the future. Older people in his family went along with his imagination; they enjoyed hearing the kid talk and talk.
“…a sportscar and a beautiful wife that loves me beyond all! A big dog that I’ll name Jack and a HUGE stock of chocolate! That’s right, and I’ll become a scientist, a writer, and a millionaire! At the same time haha!” He thought all the time and occasionally spoke about his wishes to spread the joy to others.
“Oh, what a sweet boy,” his teacher, as well as his mom and aunts, said in unison to humor him, “You’ll grow up to become such a nice gentleman! I envy the woman who’ll get to be with you!”
They’re smiling without squinting their eyes. He noted, not knowing the meaning of a “fake smile”.
The women in his life would’ve said the same things if he said he wanted to become a mechanic or a doctor, but he didn’t know that.
He had a best friend called Mike, and Mike had different aspirations.
“I will become a gangster and rule the whole world,” he told his teacher amidst the class, “and I’ll take you as my fourteenth wife, or maybe my fifteenth? I’m not sure if I’ll take Sidney; she told the other kids where I hid the candies that I stole from them!”
“Oh, a gangster? Like the mafia guys that appear in movies? that’s foolish,” she laughed harder than she should’ve, her eyes squinting and her cheeks rosy; “and what’s all that about ‘marrying me’, you’re too young to be saying things like that. Mind your manners.”
“I’ll marry you, but only if you act well,” the whole classroom laughed, including the teacher. Since that day, he’d become her favorite student.
He knows nothing, Perpy thought, I’ll help him change his way; he will waste his life at this rate.
At the time, Perpy thought he was helping him out of benevolence, but he’s not sure about that anymore. Was he trying to convince Mike to leave his ideologies behind as a helpful gesture? or to convince himself that his own path isn’t wrong afterall.
“Stupid Perpy, what’s with that bullshit dream of yours,” Mike said as they were driving their bicycles together, “Marry only one woman, and treat her the best she’s been treated in her life? Why do that when you can get a gazillion of women, and have them all treat you like a King!”
Indeed, he’s kinda right. Perpy always thought at the back of his mind, but a certain resistance always creeped in when he tried to think too deeply about this kind of subject.
His mom told him to treat women well, to be a nice guy and to never break a girl’s heart or make her cry. He had to protect her from nasty guys, and help her have as smooth a life as he could, because women were “weaker” and deserved to protected.
At the time, her words made sense. She raised all on her own, so she must’ve known how the world worked.
He kept his head down, and made the best effort to be the nicest person he ever could even though it wasn’t in his nature.
As he and Mike grew up, they remained best friends even though their interests diverged from one another. What held their friendship together was their love for bikes, and Mike’s insistent nature to invite Perpy around.
The years went by, and Perpy saw the same patterns repeating themselves.
Mike would say some outrageous things and act in supposedly ‘terrible’ ways, be reprimanded, then given what he wanted. The girls, the popularity, the cool friends, the invitations to events, and everything Perpy wished for, Mike got. Perpy on the other hand, would say and act in a textbook perfect way, get complimented on how good of a boy he is, then told to look elsewhere for opportunities.
“I’m sure you’ll find a good girl, and that you’ll make her happy,” his crush said.
“Oh you want to hang out with our group? We canceled the hangout actually, and we’ll tell you if we have anything prepared,” The guys from his class laughed as they answered.
“Thanks Perpy for you help. You’re such a good man, and I would’ve helped you if I could,” the bank clerk answered after perpy ran some errands for him, to ‘fairly’ ask for a favor. After that, the bank clerk helped another man with the same issue because he complained and issued threats to tell the bank manager if he didn’t get his way.
Why are people saying good things to my face, yet I always get the short end of the stick…
He didn’t understand that lesson yet, that Actions Spoke Louder Than Words.
Nowadays, Perpy is different man. He moved away from his small town, and made a something out of himself.
He’s got enough money to no longer worry about spending any more. He’s fitter than ever, and has many physical hobbies including boxing, fishing, hiking and mountain climbing. He knows that he’s enough as he is, but he’s not stagnant. He fills every free moment of his time learning new things, helping others, and producing; all without expecting anything in return.
He no longer makes covert contracts with others.
He doesn’t give unnecessary gifts or compliments to women he’s only acquainted with.
He doesn’t try to impress people who want nothing to do with him.
He no longer tries to earn validation from external sources, for his inner validation and self respect is all that matters to him.
He controls the narrative of his life, and he realizes that he’s the prize. He doesn’t beg for others; they chase him and he gets to choose what suits his palate.
Perpy knows, that if not for the presence of Mike as a model to learn from, he would’ve never achieve any of his potential. His friend went on to become successful on his own, but because he lacked Perpy’s analytical nature, he ended up getting one of his mid-twenties flings pregnant and marrying her. They lived in Perpy’s old town, stagnating there for a long while.
A couple years later, Mike got too comfortable in his own skin, lost himself and became a potato couch drunkard.
His wife cheated on him, took their child and left.
One day, Perpy met Mike.
“Hey, old friend!” Mike called out, not believe what he saw, “You’re Perpy right? I can tell it’s you, but you seem totally different.”
“And you seem different too,” Perpy replied, seeing the haggardness of Mike, “Come, my friend, let’s have something to eat.”
He helped his old friend out of his slump, step by step. After a year of checking on his progress and making sure he didn’t deviate from the plan Perpy set for him, Mike improved bit by bit.
Then, after he got up on both of his feet, he asked Perpy out of curiosity.
“No one wanted to help me, even the friends that were closest to me,” he said, “Only you believed in me, and gave me some advice. If you ever need anything, then rest assured that I’ll do all in my power to help you achieve it.”
“Thanks.” Perpy replied. Thanks for being my role model when I was younger. Thanks for giving me advice and showing me proof about how the world worked. Thanks for sticking around when I had nothing to offer back then.
From Perpy’s point of view, he was helping his friend out of abundance. He already had all he wished for, and he got joy from helping others achieve what they wanted to as well.
That was the role Mike had in his youth. Everyone loved him and wanted to be him, or be with him because he didn’t need their validation. His opinion of himself was all that he needed to keep going, and no matter how they tried to bring him down, he stayed true to himself.
As such, he was magical to them, as they lived their life building themselves based on the opinions of others and the constructs of society.
Women loved him, and Guys either wanted to be his best friend or to see him dead.
Then, when he lost his spark, and started asking others for help, even begging them to listen to his sorrows, they pretended not to know him at all.
Perpy realized it a couple of years ago; The Hungry Don’t Get Fed. The Only Way For The Bank To Lend You A Million Dollars Was Having Certainty That You Didn’t Need It.
That was the different between him and Perpy when they were younger.
Mike had the dreams he truly wanted. The ones that his masculine self urged him to achieve. He didn’t qualify himself; he chose not to play by their stupid rules.
Perpy had the dreams that society said were good dreams. He lived in a feminine imperative, constantly trying to appeased everyone around him. He qualified himself all the time; trying to be so perfect and so nice to accommodate them. Not knowing that the only way to win status wars is by not playing them.
Sigh, I hope from the bottom of my heart that you’ll understand, you who’s reading my words…
No matter; Perpy found his purpose.
He’ll do whatever it took to help his fellow men join the fun, without expending unnecessary effort.
Do you want success?
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