If you wish—
I’ll rage on raw meat like a vandal
Or change into hues that the sunrise arouses,
If you wish—
I can be irreproachably gentle,
Not a man — but a cloud in trousers.

Vladimir Mayakovsky has always been my favorite poet — shame that non-Russian-speakers cannot read him in his own language — but reading about his life is draining. Feeling his identity void, complete loss of everything human about him over the years — reflecting even in his appearance.

What does he have in common with Ostap Bender, the Doctor, and Lelouch vi Britannia — fictional characters who have always clicked in me? They are natural leaders, unconventional, defying, standing out in every crowd, clever and knowing it — in fact, they think they’re even better than they are.

I was wondering if I was egoistic and self-centered — after all, this blog is 99% introspection and 1% Ubuntu and popular culture. But no, after one of the Hazuki conversations, I say it’s not really so. I put others before myself, and I’ve never consciously acted in my own interest at the cost of others. Still, I did note that I evaluate people by their similarity to myself — trying to identify with them and noting how many of my traits I can see in them.

Hazuki thinks the answer is loneliness. I seek interaction, and thus I would rather not waste my time on people I cannot relate to. I immediately noted how well it fits fictional characters as well: not wanting to waste my time on something that’s obviously not catered to me, I seek works of fiction featuring characters I can identify with. They don’t have to be the main character, mind; I can relate to Natsuki Kruger just fine in what’s essentially Arika Yumemiya’s story.