Matt - at least you went to bat. That in itself is a positive. Lick your wounds for a few days and then wave your finger in the air like you just don't care.
yeah dude, don't sweat it. You're doing the right thing which is simply staying in the game. You're SORELY out of practice. In fact, it's like you're approaching the wonderful world of dating as practically a whole new person. You just gotta shrug it off and keep lookin'.
You've thrown about one dart at the board in seems like a long time. You need to throw about 50 darts.
It wasn't even a date...I can't even manage a straightforward relationship.
I ain't got the strength for three darts...if I throw anything it might be this body in front of a fucking train or from a bridge. Unfortunately I am too much of a coward to do either of those things either. Suicide is a cowardly act my ass. It scares the piss out of me. Now, if I got loaded first...well, then I suppose I could be brave long enough.
If I only I could blow out a select bit of my brain like Ed Norton in Fight Club.
I only want to be not me any more...is that too much to ask?
I believe in a scientific version of predestination...like an atheist Calvinist or something...that we are just a bunch of atoms and bouncing off of each other and if one could understand all (essentially be "god"), one could map out all that lies ahead.
I say something here...and whomever reads it responds to it in whatever way that they do because of whatever happened to them in their Memphis, Toronto, Ohio, New York or Texas lives that day...and I respond and we all respond all creating a grand narrative...everything that will ever happen will happen because it will happen because it already happened when the first motion was made...ripple effect of butterflies...if I will die by my own hand I am already dead and we are ghosts. This already happened and we have no way of changing the inevitable: we are the inevitable. Everything is inevitable.
My believing I will die my own hand may now make that inevitable - but everything that came before made that inevitable. From the ambulocetus to the Roman Empire. 50,000,000 people died the day Adolf Hitler was rejected from art school.
I have no plans to kill myself while I am young, but I have a feeling that I will request euthanasia or, if I am able, do it myself, if I am ever struck down part way by terminal disease.
I have one life...why not stick around to see how it plays out?
Yeah, that's what I will say until the day I begin screaming when I see my reflection.
Unfortunately the eye in its socket requires a mirror to invert the image...the mind is the mirror that has the image upsidedown, my mind being upsidedown and full o' mirrors has me too aware of myself...I need to remove that somehow.
Therapy? Certainly, talking about shit to a total stanger will fix everything wrong with your head.
Therapy tells you that you are in the wrong. Therapy blames the victim. I should be able to function in a world full of murderers and savages...I shouldn't be so "sensitive", I shouldn't be paralyzed under the weight of the world...I should be able to make a life for myself on the bones of others...I shouldn't look around my room and realize that almost everything that surrounds me was made by political prisoners, slave labour and little girls in sweat shops. I should accept war...sometimes...our wars...I should pay my respect to those who died meaninglessly in bullshit wars.
I should, I should, I should...be able to get by like everyone else. Am I alone in being alone? No. Am I truly alone? No. But who gives a fuck. That some two year old girl is being raped by her uncle right now while I sip tea and type on a computer that I paid for with money I earned does not make me feel better, only worse.
It could be worse - it already is.
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