Friday, May 2, 2014

Getting my shit together

I'm kinda glad I started this blog.
It's only a once every now and then arrangement, but that's only because I generally need to get something off my chest when I do.
It's liberating, to discuss your problems with the universe. A global address to those you hold dear, and I know what you're going to say.

It has, indeed been a while. Great to see you. You've changed a bit since we last spoke, for the better, i'd like to think.
Come in, sit down. Would you like a cup of coffee?
Erm...I don't really have tea.
If you'd like, I can make you a coffee that will dissolve your teeth?
Alright, only one for me then.
Allow me to update you on what has happened in my life since, almost a year ago.

I think I fell in love. That happened.
Maybe it was nothing but a stupid fling that I ended up getting too attached over, but boy did it feel strong. A regular Summer Lovin'.
I hate myself for that reference. For all intent and purposes, I do not like Grease.

Anyway, this girl. Let's call her: Maye. I met Maye at a mutual friends party. At this point I was not really looking forward to going. I knew how these things began and ended. I get drunk, talk to a lot of people, pass out somewhere and wake up not having made any progress towards true happiness (because i'm Buddha). So, I was ready to not go.
I was watching the Godfather with a good friend of mine, and we were debating on whether to go or not, because the time was already approaching 10. To all that haven't seen it, it's amazing. Watch it.
In the end, my love for this birthday girl was too much to forgo, and I convinced my friend to put on her least cat-like hessian bag attire, and we left for the party in Wilson.
Upon arrival, things were already in full swing. Well, more towards the end of the party, when the girl that had been drinking hard earlier was already passed out at the toilet bowl, and the barbecue was only just being turned on.
Getting the bearings for the party, my friend and I hovered around the gate entrance and mingled with any and all that came near.
I don't accurately remember the point that I met Maye. A background memory tells me it was near the barbeque. My previous experience said "Hey, fuckwit, hang out near the barbeque and impress people with your knowledge". I obliged myself in the non-sexual manner, and struck up conservation with a short, really cute girl.
Conversation was a river flowing effortlessly between film and music and literature and all things apart from barbeques. I brought up "The Godfather" and how great it was, and she hadn't seen it. Silly Maye.
Her hand rested on my knee, and I realized that my "flirting" and *cough* CHARM, was working. I was into this girl and she, for some reason, was into me.
She grabbed my phone after we looked up the IMDB's top 250 films of all time (because that's my go to reference for all my wanky flirting needs), and added her number to my limited supply of numbers held in the phone.
"We should totally watch a movie sometime."
Fuck yeah we should. We should make out over the corpses of my fallen enemies against a setting sun near the ocean as a dragon lifts us towards oblivion.
After we had spent the majority of the party chatting, it was time for myself and cat-hoarder 9000 to leave (she's going to kill me for that one).
Maye was adorable and followed me around as I said goodbye to 90% strangers, just for another cuddle.
It was probably one of the most flattering, lovely nights I ever had. It got better though.

I took her to an Italian restaurant on our first date, then The Godfather back at mine. Maye fell asleep in my arms. I don't think i've ever had that experience before that point. It was glorious.
I'm not going to go into too much detail from that point on. I don't think the feelings I had could be portrayed well. There was hope, and fuzz. A lot of fuzzy feelings. It was all sickeningly happy.
But don't fret. I wouldn't be writing on here if there wasn't a miserable ending.

Mis-communication and bad timing led to a rather abrupt end around the time of 2013 Big Day Out.
It was crushing.
I finally felt what true despair felt like. I would wake up in the morning with that sore lump in your throat you only get from repressed feelings of sadness. Nothing I did would get rid of it. Going to work sucked and I didn't talk to anyone for fear of breaking down in front of them for something that sounded stupid.
My feelings, I feel, were justified, even for the short amount of time the affair lasted. For once, I met someone I actually liked, and could see a relationship forming. I could see her being introduced to my friends, my family. I could see myself having an absolute blast with her all the time.
Anyway, things kept going off and on until things went sour. It stands as the happiest and saddest i've felt in my life. That's love, yo.
Lol.

Before all this happened, I had a massive breakdown too. The last post on my blog was some stupid shit about there being a void or a hole I can't stop falling through. So arty, Andrew. Well done. Super dooper.
I signed up for an internet dating site and had to fill out all these details about myself, my income, everything. It was a paid service, at a friend's advice, because he had some success with it.
I hadn't ever truly dived into the realm of full blown online dating, so I was apprehensive.
I paid 120 dollars, sorted through my list of girls, and waited for the matches.
I did this everyday for 4 weeks, with not a single match. That was the point I think I lost myself. I had a view of myself that I was unique and funny and well liked. My rocket powered by ego ran out of gas, and I crashed through the pavement of misery.
It still brings up strong feelings of overwhelming sadness just to recount it. I think it was the first time I was given a real representation of myself. No bullshit, no dressing or humor. I was undesirable, and I had proof.
I have romanticized throughout my life that I could be happy with someone, and everything would be like a movie. People around me found love easy enough, I felt. There wasn't much to it observing from the outside. One day you meet at a party, the next you're in a relationship. I was funny. I was smart. I thought I was good looking enough for somebody. Anybody. People just didn't get a good idea of who I was at parties because I didn't have the opportunity to show myself. They didn't know me, only my appearance. I guess, I accepted that I wasn't the best looking guy, but my personality was at least fun and unique enough to attract girls. This was the proof that I wasn't great in anything; at all.

So fell into a pretty deep slump. I cut off contact with people, stopped eating and didn't go to work. Friends and family worried but I didn't care. I was unsuccessful, ugly and useless. They would be better off without me as their friend.
After about a month of reassurance, talking and medication, I picked myself up. Since then I guess i've become more resilient. I also feel that, after this little episode, the meeting of Maye was all the more powerful and emotionally lifting, and the end was a bit harder than it would have normally been.

I also saw the collapse of my job life. A stupid decision to raise the borrow amount of a company ended up costing me my employment, as they went under, we lost almost a million, and they needed to cut staff. I lost my job, and to this date, almost 8 months later, I haven't been able to find a full time job. It's frustrating as all hell, and has once again dragged me to a place I didn't want to end up. Having an income is paramount to happiness in modern civilization. To quote 2Pac: Mo' Money, Mo' Bitches.
And for me to be happy, I need to feel like i'm progressing to a better version of myself. Sitting here, waiting for someone to accept me for an interview, is painful and humiliating. Talking to girls as an unemployed male is like conspiring treason. I'm going to get caught out soon enough. They'll ask me what I do for a living, and i'll either have to lie and say "I'm a decent guy" or tell the truth. That's horrible.
And If there's one thing I know about myself, it's that my pining heart will always need love or unhappiness will follow.

For the future, i'm hoping that I can begin studying in Computer science next year. The great thing is, the next post on here will more than likely feature a beaten man explaining how the world was out to get him and nothing worked out the way it needed to. Not sure if i'll ever grow out of it, which is scary. I can't be depended on for things. I can see myself reflecting on my choices at 40 wondering where all my time went. Why I didn't get to have kids. Why i'm still on minimum wage and renting. Why I haven't traveled. Why my dating site has become Craigslist and i'm posting dick pics.
I feel i'm running out of time to choose a direction before I get too tired to complete the journey.
Fucking 25, right?

Here's to getting your shit together.

Friday, October 12, 2012

.

There has to be someone at the bottom, to feel the weight of the world as it tramples over you.

Saturday, October 6, 2012

Ghosts

I've been having days where I wake up in the morning, look at myself in the mirror and think, "Shit yeah, you look good today. Things are looking up. Today is the day things change for you. You're on top of the world". Then I'll head into the world and be reminded of what other humans look like. "Oh, fuck. THAT'S what other people look like." It instantly pulls me back to reality, and destroys my confidence. When I then see myself in the mirror, It's entirely different. I see the weird growths taking up the left side of my face, the chubby cheeks, the rounded jawline. All the unmasculine things. I can convince myself i'm a good looking guy when I have only myself to compare to. Myself and my ugly roommate.
My roommate, the crackpot, serves as a constant reminder for me that some people do in fact, die alone. They serve no noble cause, leave no inspirational legacy, bear no children and date no women. He serves as an inspiration not to become him. Each night, when I leave my hovel of a man cave in search of sustenance  and see him at his shitty laptop computer, drinking iced coffee and "researching", it drives me not to ever become him. I'm intimidated by the fact that, if someone said sucking dick could cure cancer, he'd be busting down my door any second. So, i'm actively making steps to avoid becoming him, alone at 50.
I've recently become the member of a dating site, for instance  My second dating account. Only this time, I paid for it. I forked over money in the hope it'll be different to free sites. So far, it hasn't been any different. It's been static. It even tells you when someone views your profile, so I know when someone takes notice of me, but still chooses to not make contact. Thanks so much. The sweetener is, that I paid for this.
They ask you a lot of deep seeded questions about you as a person, how you think of yourself and how much money you earn. My first thought after answering the questions was "Oh god, i'm going to die alone". Again, I paid for that. I can't tell you how depressing it is to log in every time and see no activity under my updates list. Not even someone looking at my profile. I even know that it gets sent out. Each day, it gets sent out to at least one other human being as part of their matches. And I get nothing. It begs the question, what number am I? To be ignored by 95% of the female population, excluding my Nanna after her 4th drink, how unattractive can I actually be? I know i'm far from being Jon Hamm (which, in a perfect world, would be the ideal man), but surely I can't be that bad. For one thing, and this may be the only time i'll compliment myself, I find my personality to be far bigger than any other male i've met. I'm sure everyone thinks that of themselves though. It's what makes us human.
I was talking with a friend recently about the theory of a reacher and a settler. The person in each relationship who is the reacher, who ends up with someone higher than themselves, and the settler, someone who feels they've gone for someone a little less than they could have gotten. I feel, in a relationship with me, both of us are going to feel like settlers. This is the worst situation for a relationship. I feel I might be brainwashed from all the females I spend time with, as to the type of girl I will eventually want to call my wife. This girl will need to be better than said girls, without a doubt. That's love, right? But, I can't see myself doing better than the girls I have as friends. They seem to be the best, most desirable women in all the world. And who wants to be in a relationship with a guy that thinks his female friends to be better than her? No-one. I feel i've shot myself in the foot by hanging out with people who are generally, leagues ahead of myself. Who associate with people who go onto great things, and do great things themselves. I'm accepted into a circle miles above the circle i'm supposed to be in.
I'm trying to make my life go in a certain direction, to keep up with my friends and share our successes, but I keep falling behind. Things keep getting in my way. Stupid things, normally from my past. To my credit, I haven't had a child with anyone, which would be a huge setback. Not to my credit, I haven't really had an opportunity to. Truth be told, it's been at least a year since I last kissed a girl. I don't want to mention anything else, for fear that the 4 people a day in the US and Canada think i'm a real fuck up. That's right, I see you viewing my page, waddup?!?!
All in all, it's darkest before the dawn, but the dawn had better come soon. Right now, i'm in a place that isn't beneficial to anyone. I'm ignored by most of the female population, living with a ghost of my future self, surrounded by reminders of my own failure and watching my life stagnate. All I need as some goddamn profile activity!