Many people in this world consider themselves what we call ‘nice guys’.

I do not.

I may have tried to convey myself as a nice guy at an earlier point, to act as if I happen to be a nice guy, to think about ‘what other people think’ to the point of neurosis…

But I would not really consider myself a nice guy.

What this DOESN’T mean is that I go around attacking people needlessly or getting into fights I don’t need to get into, fight against my actual interests – rage against the machine like a two bit two hundred kilogram behemoth of a manchild on a warpath to destroy the known and seen universe.

But what this DOES mean, is that I will express what I think without fear, without favor, without the sense that “OOPS SOMEONE’S OUT TO GET ME” because if I see a dude who needs to get scolded, I am going to scold that dude, think about how to more efficiently scold the dude, and even think about how I’m going to use people to further my own goals.

If that sounds bad, it probably is – but that’s just another aspect of me – I have certain goals in this universe that can only be attained through changing the ways that people think, believe, and ideate in this world on small and large scales…

Which means I cannot ever avoid conflict.

…But that’s just as well though?

Conflict is how stories move forward.

Conflict is how main characters turn from unknown troglodytes in the gonadic expression of a whelp into world changers, the hero in the demon king story.

If a nice guy ceases to be a nice guy the moment he goes out there and starts fighting with people, then it is clear:

I am most certainly not one of those ‘nice guys’.

I will not step around your ego, your feelings, your thoughts.

Though I do not choose to needlessly hurt you, I will not tell you beautiful lies to make you feel ‘comfortable’ merely because it is easier to avoid your ire.

I do not crave conflict, but if it is a means to an end, then I will bathe in it, exult in it, and become good at it to the extent that it is necessary to achieve the wider goal.

What is that?

That’s a story for another day.