(no subject)
I don't know what I'm doing here.
Had a long talk with Geoff. Another long talk with Dixie. Good friends to me. I'd say I don't deserve them but that pisses them off so what can I do? Btw, I'm not looking for responses I've just got to say some stuff.
I have real issues with women. Obsessive and paranoid aren't really all that conduscive to a healthy relationship. Manipulative isn't all that great either. I used to be able to be so smooth. It used to be so easy. I gott this kick out of capturing a woman's sensuality and her emotion and her interest, becoming some kind of fantasy for them. Maybe it's like vengeance for me against all the guys I hated growing up, who had all the girls. "Ha. You may be married/dating/fucking her you ungrateful ass, but I'm not even there and I'm doing more for her than you are." Whee. Safe, thousands of miles away, deluding myself into some sort of validation about my own worth or quality as a human being and male of the species. Just like a fuck. Until I find one I really like, of course. And then if I get them I can't trust them, and if I can't get them I become an obsessive ass trying to figure out why they want someone else over me, what's so very wrong with me.
Therapists are shit and transparent like cellophane.
There's only so much I can blame on my past. Past is past. Supposed to go forward, right? I don't know that I trust anyone. That has some layers to it. It's like.. I assume that people will think the worst of me, for one. I say that's because so many times I've been victimized in the past (or that's how I remember it), and found out that someone was talking behind my back, or was trying to 'protect' me, or placate me, or humor me, or pity me, or was doing stuff behind my back, or wasn't honest with me, but it's more than that. I know that I'm feeling all suspicious because I have those thoughts. Because I've done those things. Maybe I don't do them all the time, but I do do them, and that's enough. I'm human. They're human. That's enough, right? And it's so much easier to imagine it that way because then I'm a victim. If I'm a victim, I'm not doing something wrong, right? It's someone else that's wrong.
Because I always have to be in the right. One way or another. I have to be 'saving' someone, or doing 'the right thing,' martyr me, pity poor me. So I can be righteous about it. So I can know I'm better than everyone else. There's more I'm forgetting. Important areas in which I've done wrong. Things about me I don't see that are a problem.
Everything's got to be perfect. That's the best. That's the right way to do things. Maybe something's pretty good, but there's something better. Something more. Aren't we supposed to strive for the best? Aren't we supposed to want more? What's satisfaction, anyway. It's temporary. It's all temporary.
Cut away all the flack, all the bullshit, all the pleasing others for that glimmer of external validation, the approval, the praise, the constant vying for attention, always making everything about me, assuming every nuance of every person I encounter is something over which I have or had control.. take it all away and I'm sitting here with nothing.
I'm 27. I was supposed to be on the road to success, whatever the hell that is, by now. I don't feel like that though. I feel like I've got my little room filled with all these beautiful glass sculptures that symbolize each of my delusions. Each getting shattered one by one by some 'revelation' or rude awakening, leaving me walking in numb circles about my life, glass shards cutting into my feet as I wander from one ruined image to the next, trying to pick up my life and piece it all together into something that makes sense and has meaning, and failing again and again and not knowing why. I have no passion. Nothing real. It's all like placebos. Like I'm hitting the bar for a drink to soothe it away until I reach the point of exhaustion and passing out.
I don't know what I'm living for.
Had a long talk with Geoff. Another long talk with Dixie. Good friends to me. I'd say I don't deserve them but that pisses them off so what can I do? Btw, I'm not looking for responses I've just got to say some stuff.
I have real issues with women. Obsessive and paranoid aren't really all that conduscive to a healthy relationship. Manipulative isn't all that great either. I used to be able to be so smooth. It used to be so easy. I gott this kick out of capturing a woman's sensuality and her emotion and her interest, becoming some kind of fantasy for them. Maybe it's like vengeance for me against all the guys I hated growing up, who had all the girls. "Ha. You may be married/dating/fucking her you ungrateful ass, but I'm not even there and I'm doing more for her than you are." Whee. Safe, thousands of miles away, deluding myself into some sort of validation about my own worth or quality as a human being and male of the species. Just like a fuck. Until I find one I really like, of course. And then if I get them I can't trust them, and if I can't get them I become an obsessive ass trying to figure out why they want someone else over me, what's so very wrong with me.
Therapists are shit and transparent like cellophane.
There's only so much I can blame on my past. Past is past. Supposed to go forward, right? I don't know that I trust anyone. That has some layers to it. It's like.. I assume that people will think the worst of me, for one. I say that's because so many times I've been victimized in the past (or that's how I remember it), and found out that someone was talking behind my back, or was trying to 'protect' me, or placate me, or humor me, or pity me, or was doing stuff behind my back, or wasn't honest with me, but it's more than that. I know that I'm feeling all suspicious because I have those thoughts. Because I've done those things. Maybe I don't do them all the time, but I do do them, and that's enough. I'm human. They're human. That's enough, right? And it's so much easier to imagine it that way because then I'm a victim. If I'm a victim, I'm not doing something wrong, right? It's someone else that's wrong.
Because I always have to be in the right. One way or another. I have to be 'saving' someone, or doing 'the right thing,' martyr me, pity poor me. So I can be righteous about it. So I can know I'm better than everyone else. There's more I'm forgetting. Important areas in which I've done wrong. Things about me I don't see that are a problem.
Everything's got to be perfect. That's the best. That's the right way to do things. Maybe something's pretty good, but there's something better. Something more. Aren't we supposed to strive for the best? Aren't we supposed to want more? What's satisfaction, anyway. It's temporary. It's all temporary.
Cut away all the flack, all the bullshit, all the pleasing others for that glimmer of external validation, the approval, the praise, the constant vying for attention, always making everything about me, assuming every nuance of every person I encounter is something over which I have or had control.. take it all away and I'm sitting here with nothing.
I'm 27. I was supposed to be on the road to success, whatever the hell that is, by now. I don't feel like that though. I feel like I've got my little room filled with all these beautiful glass sculptures that symbolize each of my delusions. Each getting shattered one by one by some 'revelation' or rude awakening, leaving me walking in numb circles about my life, glass shards cutting into my feet as I wander from one ruined image to the next, trying to pick up my life and piece it all together into something that makes sense and has meaning, and failing again and again and not knowing why. I have no passion. Nothing real. It's all like placebos. Like I'm hitting the bar for a drink to soothe it away until I reach the point of exhaustion and passing out.
I don't know what I'm living for.