Hey Dooods!!
What's up!?!
When I see her dancing closer and closer to me, living and trying to reach out, being beautiful in being herself, trying to be human with another human, like humans do; I become afraid and I shy away. I don't know why.
I walk through crowds and women look at me like they want nothing better than to hold me close and be with me, for a night, for an instant, and I give them this look that absolutely screams "I'M NOT INTERESTED." The look is a vague smile, followed by a sorrowful glance at my shoes.
What's ironic is that I AM INTERESTED.
For how much longer am I going to be alone?
What is wrong with me that I'm so afraid of expressing my interest in a woman? What really pains me is that I know I would be a better partner than a lot of the doods that the women get involved with.
I know what you're not thinking, but I'm thinking it. I've thought long and hard about the idea that I'm gay and, because of the environment up in which I was raised, I've repressed my sexuality. That would be a really good explanation for my dilemma.
That's not it. I'm not gay.
I'm not straight, either.
Can'o'wormsGenderDiscussionRelativityCultureArchetypeStereotypeGenderroleBehaviorSpectrumSexualityetceteraetcetera
The Truth: I dream of a partner, a kindred spirit, however cliché that may sound, a lover, a friend.
Humans are meant to live within loving communities, the members of which support and care for and love each other. Members of a community help other members achieve their dreams. People find companionship through a community.
Whatevs, I'm allofasudden too drunk to make sense. I've been drinking all the while I was writing this (which is really the only occasion during which I feel open enough to write) and it seems to have caught up with me. I suppose I'll drink some more, 'cause why not, right?
My point, by the way, is that I'm not an alpha male, despite my intelligence (whatever has remained), and therefore I am doomed to a life of loneliness.
Thanks Mom and Dad.
There I go again, blaming my problems on someone else. All of my problems can be traced back to their origin; the moment I was born. Were I never born, I would never have had so many problems.
If I believed in god I would pray this prayer: JESUS CHRIST may I never, ever, under any circumstance expose another human to the excruciating agony that is living on this spiky, ugly wasteland that is our earth.
When I fall in love I'll change my perspective.
I'm never going to fall in love again.
Congratulations.
Jan 20, 2008
Blame and guilt.
Blame and guilt. That's all there is. That is what this world is comprised of.
Tonight the fake conversation I constructed in my head was between my mother and I. In this fake talk I asked my mother if, while she was pregnant with me, she considered that she was about to condemn another human being to a life of pain. "Wait" I would plead as a ghost during her pregnancy. "Think this through. You know not what pain your actions cause." I would scream and break glasses and stomp my feet; "would you please think of the child, maybe he doesn't want to be born, maybe he's not ready for this."
I blame my mother for my conception, for all the pain I've endured, for all the pain I have waiting for me in the future. I wish I could take it back, triple stamp a double stamp.
The pain in my life is a result of my having been born.
Seems obvious enough.
...
When a company produces a product that's desirable and usable, people buy the product, and the company succeeds. Sometimes the company produces a product that's defective, and the product needs to be sent back, needs to be destroyed...
Such is my life.
Thanks for caring.
Tonight the fake conversation I constructed in my head was between my mother and I. In this fake talk I asked my mother if, while she was pregnant with me, she considered that she was about to condemn another human being to a life of pain. "Wait" I would plead as a ghost during her pregnancy. "Think this through. You know not what pain your actions cause." I would scream and break glasses and stomp my feet; "would you please think of the child, maybe he doesn't want to be born, maybe he's not ready for this."
I blame my mother for my conception, for all the pain I've endured, for all the pain I have waiting for me in the future. I wish I could take it back, triple stamp a double stamp.
The pain in my life is a result of my having been born.
Seems obvious enough.
...
When a company produces a product that's desirable and usable, people buy the product, and the company succeeds. Sometimes the company produces a product that's defective, and the product needs to be sent back, needs to be destroyed...
Such is my life.
Thanks for caring.
Jan 19, 2008
It's not about sex.
I find it kinda funny how, about a year ago when I started this blog, I was in just about the exact same situation I am now: unemployed, homeless, aimless, drinking too much, depressed every moment of the day. Between then and now, what have I accomplished? Not much. I'm a little stupider, now, and, if at all possible, even lonelier.
I think I wanted to write here after such a long absence because I think it helps me to realize what I want; good things happen to me after I air my troubles here. Besides, I'm drinking to drown, and that always makes for a good time.
It's not that I haven't written anything here, I have, it's that I haven't published anything here, because nothing I write is worth letting people read.
So I do this weird thing where I create scenarios in my mind around implausible events. For example when I take my daily walk to the liquor store, as the cop cars pass I imagine how I would explain myself to them, were they to stop and harass me. Would I say that I was just a good kid doing the best I could the best way I know how? Would I pour out my soul to them, to a stranger? Would they care?
Probably not.
Today I invented a conversation between me and a christian friend of mine, wherein I tried to defend my atheism by staging a conversation with God. If I were to believe in God, and God were to exist, then I would ask him why he would create a life whose sole purpose is to suffer, as it seems that's the only purpose of my life, my raison d'etre.
Unfortunately there isn't any God to answer that question.
Hopefully that's a question I'll never have to answer for to my children...
K, so I guess there's a basic gist of this whole blog:
-Boy drinks
-Boy wants girl
-Boy is too shy or self-hating to talk to girl so...
-Boy doesn't get girl
-Boy drinks
-Boy is lonely
-Boy drinks
-Boy is sad because he believes his drinking is isolating him from those he loves
-Boy drinks more
-Boy can't seem to drink enough
-Boy's only solace is the idea that he will die someday
Story of my life.
Schadenfreude. I believe this old friend of mine reads this on occasion, and I believe he reads because I only talk about how shitty my life is, and he likes to hear about it; it makes him feel better about himself. Well, if that's the case, eat it up man, I'm in fucking hell.
K, that's it for now. Maybe more later.
...
K, it's later.
Stream of consciousness. Ready? GO!!!
So I think that, well, I shouldn't start this this way. I think I should start this off by second-guessing myself, no wait, maybe I shouldn't.
K, so I'm awfully lonely and I believe that expressing this here will somehow alleviate that. Someone will swoop down from on high and offer me companionship, and I will accept because I've got nothing else for which to live.
You know it's pretty hard, this feeling of despair, isolation, abandonment. pretty hard to deal with. I feel like I've been abandoned, abandoned by my friends, my strength, my society. Is this my society? Would I have chosen it, were I given the choice? I think that there are certain societal/personal traits that young humans are taught to adopt/internalize from birth, and I've missed the boat on pretty much all of them. I've managed to only approximate enough of them to survive this long.
To torture myself, I've adopted this idea that sane (enough) women are only attracted to men that will take advantage of them and abuse them and oppress them and use them and hate them. In this way I am able to pride myself in my loneliness by saying "hey, at least I'm only causing myself to suffer by being alone." This makes me feel good (well, not good..). The truth, however, is far too painful for me to acknowledge anywhere but here on this blog.
The truth is that I can't see, not even in a million years, anyone ever loving me. I hate myself so much that even the idea of creating any sort of connection with another human terrifies me so badly that I hibernate, I sleep, I drink.
Really I believe that I'm not good enough; I'm not worthy of enjoying the comforts to which every human is entitled just by virtue of being human. I missed the boat on being human.
My shit smells like roses to me.
Thanks for reading, I'm off to go drinking.
I think I wanted to write here after such a long absence because I think it helps me to realize what I want; good things happen to me after I air my troubles here. Besides, I'm drinking to drown, and that always makes for a good time.
It's not that I haven't written anything here, I have, it's that I haven't published anything here, because nothing I write is worth letting people read.
So I do this weird thing where I create scenarios in my mind around implausible events. For example when I take my daily walk to the liquor store, as the cop cars pass I imagine how I would explain myself to them, were they to stop and harass me. Would I say that I was just a good kid doing the best I could the best way I know how? Would I pour out my soul to them, to a stranger? Would they care?
Probably not.
Today I invented a conversation between me and a christian friend of mine, wherein I tried to defend my atheism by staging a conversation with God. If I were to believe in God, and God were to exist, then I would ask him why he would create a life whose sole purpose is to suffer, as it seems that's the only purpose of my life, my raison d'etre.
Unfortunately there isn't any God to answer that question.
Hopefully that's a question I'll never have to answer for to my children...
K, so I guess there's a basic gist of this whole blog:
-Boy drinks
-Boy wants girl
-Boy is too shy or self-hating to talk to girl so...
-Boy doesn't get girl
-Boy drinks
-Boy is lonely
-Boy drinks
-Boy is sad because he believes his drinking is isolating him from those he loves
-Boy drinks more
-Boy can't seem to drink enough
-Boy's only solace is the idea that he will die someday
Story of my life.
Schadenfreude. I believe this old friend of mine reads this on occasion, and I believe he reads because I only talk about how shitty my life is, and he likes to hear about it; it makes him feel better about himself. Well, if that's the case, eat it up man, I'm in fucking hell.
K, that's it for now. Maybe more later.
...
K, it's later.
Stream of consciousness. Ready? GO!!!
So I think that, well, I shouldn't start this this way. I think I should start this off by second-guessing myself, no wait, maybe I shouldn't.
K, so I'm awfully lonely and I believe that expressing this here will somehow alleviate that. Someone will swoop down from on high and offer me companionship, and I will accept because I've got nothing else for which to live.
You know it's pretty hard, this feeling of despair, isolation, abandonment. pretty hard to deal with. I feel like I've been abandoned, abandoned by my friends, my strength, my society. Is this my society? Would I have chosen it, were I given the choice? I think that there are certain societal/personal traits that young humans are taught to adopt/internalize from birth, and I've missed the boat on pretty much all of them. I've managed to only approximate enough of them to survive this long.
To torture myself, I've adopted this idea that sane (enough) women are only attracted to men that will take advantage of them and abuse them and oppress them and use them and hate them. In this way I am able to pride myself in my loneliness by saying "hey, at least I'm only causing myself to suffer by being alone." This makes me feel good (well, not good..). The truth, however, is far too painful for me to acknowledge anywhere but here on this blog.
The truth is that I can't see, not even in a million years, anyone ever loving me. I hate myself so much that even the idea of creating any sort of connection with another human terrifies me so badly that I hibernate, I sleep, I drink.
Really I believe that I'm not good enough; I'm not worthy of enjoying the comforts to which every human is entitled just by virtue of being human. I missed the boat on being human.
My shit smells like roses to me.
Thanks for reading, I'm off to go drinking.
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