FOCUS…… That’s what life is about. F.O.C.U.S. Fighting opposition by capturing the understanding of strength. I am me. Want to come for a wild ride? You’re more then welcome if you think you can keep up. Only thing I ask is that you bring something more to the table than good looks. Wait, that’s all you have to offer? Maybe you can catch a ride some other time.
I’m sick of searching for the point. I’m sick of trying to find meaning in nothing. I’m sick of fake friendships and lack of affection. I’m sick of trying to fit in when there is no place. I’m sick of striving for the top but, not having the motivation to keep it up. I’m sick of watching others succeed where I have failed. I’m sick of the disappointment of failure. I’m sick of believing I’m on top but ending up on the bottom. It’s the sickness of everything that is consuming me. I’m hurt, but I don’t bleed. I cry, but I don’t make a sound. I feel, but don’t show emotion. It’s the lack of being in sync with the world that drives me to insanity. If you don’t fit in and you always have to fake it, what’s the point? I should just end it……………………………………………………………………………………………………………
If you don’t want me at my worst, don’t expect me at my best. I’ll just laugh and smile and act like the rest.
What happened to all the nice guys?
The answer is simple: you did.
See, if you think back, really hard, you might vaguely remember a Platonic guy pal who always seemed to want to spend time with you. He’d tag along with you when you went shopping, stop by your place for a movie when you were lonely but didn’t feel like going out, or even sit there and hold you while you sobbed and told him about how horribly the (other) guy that you were fucking treated you.
At the time, you probably joked with your girlfriends about how he was a little puppy dog, always following you around, trying to do things to get you to pay attention to him. They probably teased you because they thought he had a crush on you. Given that his behavior was, admittedly, a little pathetic, you vehemently denied having any romantic feelings for him, and buttressed your position by claiming that you were “just friends.” Besides, he totally wasn’t your type. I mean, he was a little too short, or too bald, or too fat, or too poor, or didn’t know how to dress himself, or basically be or do any of the things that your tall, good-looking, fit, rich, stylish boyfriend at the time pulled off with such ease.
Eventually, your Platonic buddy drifted away, as your relationship with the boyfriend got more serious and spending time with this other guy was, admittedly, a little weird, if you werent dating him. More time passed, and the boyfriend eventually cheated on you, or became boring, or you realized that the things that attracted you to him weren’t the kinds of things that make for a good, long-term relationship. So, now, you’re single again, and after having tried the bar scene for several months having only encountered players and douche bags, you wonder, “What happened to all the nice guys?”
Well, once again, you did.
You ignored the nice guy. You used him for emotional intimacy without reciprocating, in kind, with physical intimacy. You laughed at his consideration and resented his devotion. You valued the aloof boyfriend more than the attentive “just-a-” friend. Eventually, he took the hint and moved on with his life. He probably came to realize, one day, that women aren’t really attracted to guys who hold doors open; or make dinners just because; or buy you a Christmas gift that you mentioned, in passing, that you really wanted five months ago; or listen when you’re upset; or hold you when you cry. He came to realize that, if he wanted a woman like you, he’d have to act more like the boyfriend that you had. He probably cleaned up his look, started making some money, and generally acted like more of an asshole than he ever wanted to be.
Fact is, now, he’s probably getting laid, and in a way, your ultimate rejection of him is to thank for that. And I’m sorry that it took the complete absence of “nice guys” in your life for you to realize that you missed them and wanted them. Most women will only have a handful of nice guys stumble into their lives, if that.
So, if you’re looking for a nice guy, here’s what you do:
1.) Build a time machine.
2.) Go back a few years and pull your head out of your ass.
3.) Take a look at what’s right in front of you and grab ahold of it.
I suppose the other possibility is that you STILL don’t really want a nice guy, but you feel the social pressure to at least appear to have matured beyond your infantile taste in men. In which case, you might be in luck, because the nice guy you claim to want has, in reality, shed his nice guy mantle and is out there looking to unleash his cynicism and resentment onto someone just like you.
If you were five years younger.
So, please: either stop misrepresenting what you want, or own up to the fact that you’ve fucked yourself over. You’re getting older, after all. It’s time to excise the bullshit and deal with reality. You didn’t want a nice guy then, and he certainly doesn’t fucking want you, now.
Sincerely,
A Recovering Nice Guy
—— Pulled from the Best of craigslist ——
http://www.craigslist.org/about/best/lax/483318927.html
I last left you with the question of “What do I want?” What do we all want? We strive for the perfections of the expectations of reality. The problem that makes the answer so hard is that our expectations of reality never match what reality is. We constantly chase the dragon of perfection, trying to relive the high of our first misled and naive fantasy of reality. We remove the fun of the unexpected and hype it up to a point, that even if you do receive what you think you want, you no longer enjoy what you have strived for. It’s our poisoning of the beauty of simplicity. We have lost the ability to live in the moment, feel what we are feeling and listen to our instincts. The constant thinking of things that have no relevance to the enjoyment of the moment. The “what if’s ” and “should I’s” of the world have brought us to a point of losing our humanity. What I am trying to say is spontaneity is what I want. It is what we all want. We want affection that is not expected, long drives for no reason,meeting people we don’t know, long conversations with people we do know and getting to know them better by doing the unexpected and unplanned.
The ability to experience is shaded by our lies. What we want is honesty. Yet, we program ourselves to be dishonest and cover it up by calling it a “little white lie”. Shrouded in the indecency of the white lie is the human connection of acceptance and respect of others opinions. Raw emotions then become unexpected because they are constantly filtered by our irrationality to not accept what really is.
Love is a perfect example of the shroud of indecency stripping us of what it is to enjoy the experience. We want love but we can not accept what the concept means. We think that love requires more than a strong friendship with honesty, trust and mutual respect. What we fail to realize is that nothing else is required of love and anything that does not include these things is a lie.
I think that is enough to think about for this post. Some more next time!
I was asked an interesting question the other day. It intrigued me so much so that I have to share it. It all started with me and drunken text messages. Wait. Before I go any further, let me tell everyone if they don’t know already, DRUNKENNESS AND TEXT MESSAGES DO NOT GO TOGETHER! O.K. Now that that’s taken care of, you must be saying to yourself “What the hell is the question?”.
“So what do you want?”; Five words, five words that left me speechless and unable to answer the question at hand. At first glance it seems simple enough, tell the person who asked it what you want and its done. What happens if you don’t know what you want?
Sit with that for a day. I’ll explore it my next post.
It’s amazing the remnants of yesterday that appear in my head. Random images and feelings that have passed; Ideas barely remembered and lost in the darkness of time; Random images and experiences which will never be relived; Hopes devoured by desperation. Where does it go when nothing is left? Unfortunately the answer is not poetic. It is all lost, destroyed with the observer, filed away indefinitely to be forgotten, rotting in the future of timeless existence.
| The Men that Don’t Fit In by: Robert W. Service |
| There’s A race of men that don’t fit in, A race that can’t stay still; So they break the hearts of kith and kin, And they roam the world at will. They range the field and they rove the flood, And they climb the mountain’s crest; Theirs is the curse of the gypsy blood, And they don’t know how to rest. If they just went straight they might go far, And each forgets, as he strips and runs He has failed, he has failed; he has missed his chance; |
Where has life gone since December 2006(the date of my last post)? I mean, hell like all things in life it seems to have come out of nowhere. I left you all last time with my grandmother sick and dying in the hospital. Well, she’s gone hopefully to a better place than this weird, weird, world that we live in. Since then, the winter has gone, the summer has come, and - HOLY SHIT! the summer is over and we are already into the fall months.
The speed at which life passes us really caught up with me on my birthday this year. I mean, I’m still young at the barely lived life age of 23 but I mean really, where has all the time gone? Sometimes I just sit around and think about all the time people, myself included, waste in life. We’re always looking for the next big thing, never really realizing what’s going on right in front of our faces.
“im highly upset that you would leave us at bay for such a long and drawn out period of time. i know whats going on in your life so i need not such “catching up” but for those of them who do not know you on a personal basis, i dont know if they will be easily adjusting to this neglect. I also wonder who here actually cares but i know i do. i just cant imagine a middle aged dude in, lets say, wyoming, that would be chekcing your site everyday religiously. maybe there is …”
- Erin
I was suprised at the number of people reading my blog as well. My google analytics show that even after the lack of updates, people still come back to see if there’s anything new posted and to catch up on old posts.
I just kind of put this thing up here to vent and tinker with the ideas of life and see where it leads. Only by challenging the ideas and beliefs that we hold for that day can we really grasp the purpose of what we are trying to achieve. This blog is the replay of my life. It allows me to say in this large cyber-world, that I existed and had feelings and thoughts, and through those feelings and thoughts a place was found.
I’ve been receiving a lot of emails from people saying they think the same exact things and like reading my blog. I appreciate the email and feedback from all of you even though most of you don’t leave comments on the articles, it is appreciated highly.
So, if only for the purpose of keeping my fellow disillusioned peers company and letting them know that they’re not alone, I will continue writing this blog.
I hope it gives people much more than simple entertainment though. I hope it allows them to see into the mind of an average person just looking for a place in life. I hope it allows people to experience the uncensored thoughts of a human. We go through each and every day having to censor our feelings and what we say to avoid the unecessary consequence of offending people. Life is too short to worry about who we are offending because, no matter what you say, someone in this world will be offended just for the fact that you speak your mind.
I choose to speak my mind in a public forum for others to view because it gives me faith in humanity that people care what other people think. We’re all so different, yet, we are all exactly the same. I hope people come to realize this.
All I can say is Wow! Its been a long time since I’ve written in this blog. I know, I know, I’ve said before I would never stop writing in it for such a long period again. Well, I lied. And, as previously promised, I’ll make sure it never happens again ;-). My next post will catch everyone up to where I am in life right now. After that? Well back to being disillusioned and you can hear some of my rambling again!
I was at the train station on Friday waiting to come home from a long day of work. Of course the bus was late and made me miss the train. So, where does that leave me? It leaves me waiting for the next train that comes in about an hour.
While waiting I was thinking, thinking can be a dangerous thing when you do not guide it. What keeps us going? I mean, what keeps us from jumping in front of the train when it passes by? What keeps us from just hitting the gas when driving and driving it off a cliff? What keeps us wanting to preserve life?
FEAR. It’s a scary word by itself. We all have fears whether we choose to recognize them or not. Fears of inability, incompetence, non-performance, Fear that maybe there is no point to everything or anything for that matter. Could life be completely unimportant and an accident?
A man interrupts me asking what time the train comes.
I ask “East bound or west bound?”
He looks at me with that confused look. I see he’s with his family and his little girl.
“To Penn Station or away from Penn Station?”
“To Penn Station” he replies.
I pull out my time table and tell the man the time. He thanks me and says that I look like i do this alot.
“Unfortunately” I reply.
“I hear that” he says.
Does he really hear that? A man with his family not knowing in which direction he is heading with them? Is he trying to say that he hears the inability to find direction? Maybe I’m looking to deep into it, maybe he just needed to say something as to feel important with the conversation.
I walk back and forth waiting for the train and listen to the conversation the parents are having with the little girl. It’s her first time on a train and she’s so excited! She says that she’s scared. How wonderful it is to be young and full of fear but so joyous of the unknown.
A train passes by. No, not my train just a train passing by. The sound is loud and almost deafning but I can hear the father yelling at the little girl to stay out of the yellow lines. Protecting her, protecting her from her joyous fear?
A not so old lady sits in a hospital as I’m waiting for this train. Single mother all her life. Got rid of the abusive husband and raised her child the best way she knew how. All her life was filled with tragedy trying to protect her child from knowing the fear of the world. She worked two jobs sometimes more to protect her child. Gave her child everything that she could possibly give.
The child gets pregnant and has a boy. Life will be hard for that child. Old lady is dieing and upset feeling like she could of given more to her child and grandchildren. She feels upset with life and the only other thing she regrets is not having an anniversary. Not having anyone to share those hard times with. She fears what the future holds and just wants someone there although, the future looks short and bleak.
My train arrives breaking me out of the gravity of introspection and I continue my day like nothing ever happened. Fear shielding me from exploring the thoughts of truth further. Fear hiding the details of life clouding them and tricking us into believing everything is alright. It is only at the end that we feel the fear that has been holding us back our whole lives and by that time it is to late.
Not to get all melodramatic or anything but, really, what is the point to life? I mean each day we go through the same routine and in the end what do we really accomplish? I personally know that every day I leave the house at 8:30 so I can make it to work at 9. When i’m at work what do I do? Well, that changes from day to day but nothing too drastic where I would call it any thing more than the same thing that I do everyday. I leave around 5 once in a while at 5:30 if i’m feeling particularly productive and then I head off to class, come home masturbate go to bed and repeat the same thing in the morning.
Justin! you say! What about the weekends? Well, the weekends suck too! I know that every friday that I’m going to go to either the Nutty Irishman or The Dizzy Lizard get wasted, dance, drive home somehwat drunk and pass out in my bed alone.
Now I know I’m not the only person who has fallen into a groove in life and does the same thing week after week. But what is the point in all the shit I do? What do I accomplish at the end of the day that is life altering or will change the world? Fuck! Why would I even want to change the world? What would be the point to that?
Now, don’t get me wrong, I love my job and I love my weekends and i have a lot of fun at the clubs dancing with all the cute girls getting my dick rubbed etc. Why do i feel like there’s something missing? I feel like i’m misssing the point!
I started having these thoughts a couple of months ago when the weather was still nice. I was driving home from work on this particularly beautiful day and realized I couldn’t fully enjoy it! Sure I was able to appreciate its beauty and even revel in the nice temperature take a deep breath of the freah air. Is that really enjoying something beautiful? I digress, the point is that even with this beautiful day I felt cheated. I felt cheated because i was driving my car home for work. I felt cheated because my radio was intefering with the sound of silence. I felt cheated because of the paved road that is in front of me. I felt that technology was cheating me of what it is to be an animal! Shit I feel cheated right now because my cell phone is going off and won’t allow me to do deep into introspection.
What is wrong with classifying us as just animals? I mean when I tell people that we’re just animals and are motivated by what feels good I get weird responses. Maybe I’ve been trying to hard in life searching for a purpose. Making a meaning of something that has no meaning. I know that i’m a little crazy, shit I personally think I’m severly fucked up in the head and that no one will ever know what I am talking or rambling about. Kind of like this blog post. Will anyone understand a word of it? I mean, truly understand what i am trying to say. maybe, and i hope if you do understand that maybe you’ll leave me a comment and let me know.
So much has been going on lately it’s hard to keep up with everything. But, I will apease my faithful readers and give you something to read.
My laptop broke the other day so it has been hard to keep content coming on to this page because without a computer I can’t access the internet and type. Seems simple enough right?
I went out last night to a place called Mustang Sally’s. It’s not a nice place just a local dive that all the townies end up congregating at every so often. Thursday night happens to be $10 all you can drink budweiser and all you can eat wings. Damn, I just wish it was all you can drink Yueng Ling and then we would be in business. Needless to say the chances of me leaving there sober with the abundance of cheap alcohol available was very slim. It was slimmer in deed when you consider the fact that I’m a 21 year old college student who doesn’t get out as much as he should.
I really don’t like the bar atmosphere. Well, I do and I don’t. I never really understood all the proper protocols on how to behave at the bar. I go there with my friends all the time and it seems that no one there is sure as well. Everything has a procedure and a way of doing things. One procedure which still mystifies the hell out of me is the art of picking people up at the bar and proper ettiquette. As those of you who read this blog know I am not really a person who is socially inclined as far as relationship ettiquette is concerned. To me there is only 3 reason you go to a bar:
1) You are depressed about something and want to get hammered and forget about it
2) To have a good time with your friends and not want to meet anyone
3) To get some ass and if possibly maybe even slightly you like the person, talk to them again
Now, if I’m not doing either number one or number two you can sure as hell know there is no other reason for me to be at the bar besides trying to score a nice piece of ass. There’s only one problem, I hate, absolutely hate, despise with a passion, acting like we both don’t know why we’re at the bar talking and flirting with each other. I mean come on I hate the bullshit. Skip right to the chase and let’s go out to my car for a quickie or back to my house for some kinky sex til the sun rises. I mean really, why sit there waiting for me to get you loaded that way you come home with me and have substandard sex that I couldn’t even sell to a horny 14 year old. Ladies, I don’t want to bring home a sloppy drunk girl who can’t hold her booze it’s very unbecoming. What I do like to take home is someone who knows the deal and we’re both a little tipsy and we can go at it til the sun comes up. Needless to say I’m disappointed in the whole bar scene. So you may ask why don’t I go to clubs? My answer is I go to them also but, don’t even get me started.
Leave a comment… you know you want to…
Nothing new to write today. Actually there is a whole lot to write but, that I will save for tomorrow. I made a funny comparison today that I’m quite proud of because it’s humourous and I like it and will use it forever.
“Going out to clubs and bars is like the army reserve, give one weekend per month and 2 weeks per year and you’re guaranteed to get fucked.”