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.