That's not really what I want to talk about, but given what's going on in the world it just leapt out at me.
What I want to talk about today is really two seperate topics. The first is that I'm disatisfied with my writing. I had really hoped it would come out better, but it hasn't. While I've come up with a few lines that I think are really good I am unable to remain focused, on point, and consistant. I think I may have to start editing and see if I can reshape and mold through that in order to produce something worth reading. I don't have time for that just yet but I will soon. It's frustrating because the pieces sound really good in my head but by the time I get them down on paper they've degraded. They have such a short half life and I rarely think of the good stuff while sitting in front of the computer where I can just pound it out.
There are some really good lines though. That's a positive to hold on to.
I knew it would be like this. Just gotta grind it out.
The other thing I want to talk about love. As in, who needs it?
The other day my shrink told me that people's egos (especially men's) are formed in the crucible of relationships. What he meant by this, I think, is that one gets a better sense of self from being in an intimate relationship with another person and gains confidence through the knowledge that one is loved.
I don't want to disregard that point, but I have to say that I have absolutely no interest in being a relationship just for the sake of being in a relationship, crucible or no. I see all these people walking around who seem relatively happy together, but they never have anything interesting to say. What's the point of being with someone else if there's nothing interesting being said? I'd get bored and want to go write or play Playstation or something so fast that I doubt I could make it through a single dinner, let alone 5 years of inane 'love.' I am constantly seeking out stimulation, and I generally don't care all that much where it comes from. For example, I was just tearing up a soda can (something I do pretty often) and I cut my thumb on one of the sharp edges. Where most people might think "oh damn, I cut my hand" I think "COOL." Sure it hurts a little, but there's blood leaking out and you can watch it bead and smear and drip. There's that lovely v shape created by severed skin, where you can look at the profile of your thumb and see open space beyond it. There's the fun of trying to type without getting blood on the keyboard.
A cut thumb can keep me entertained for like 5 minutes.
That's not normal.
Meanwhile on TV and from what I've seen in person, most people in relationships just talk about banal stuff and enjoy spending time together with nothing new to say or do. Count me out. This last week on the few TV shows I watched there were no less than two relationships formed. The Ross and Rachel big get back together on Friends (in its final episode, designed to make sure nobody would ever want to see another one) and then Meadow got engaged to her boyfriend on The Sopranos. For a perpetual single like myself this is supposed to lead to feelings of inadequacy and loneliness. I should be calling through the phonebook looking for female companionship or weeping quietly into my lager. All I could think was "Why? You guys are boring. What the hell's the point?"
It could be rationalization, the disparaging of love from someone who ain't got none and ain't got no prospects on the horizon. It could be that I just don't see the times when they're hanging out having a wonderful discussion about whether animals think other species of animals that kind of look like them are hot or not (Horses and donkeys breed. What does a donkey think when it scores with a horse? Is it like a schlubby guy scoring with a supermodel? Can they believe their good luck? Does the horse think it's slumming? Do different species of monkeys ever get hot for one another? What about two and three toed sloths? Which is hotter to a sloth? Do they all have foot fetishes?) or fascinating discourses on Proust (who I like to cite even though I haven't read all that much of Marcel's work. I call him Marcel because I imagine that if he were still alive we'd be tight like that.)
I just don't see it.
That would be my number 1 requirement in a woman. She'd have to be interesting. Not in a wild "Hey I just fucked 3 guys behind your back while you were tending to my dying mother" drama way, but in a "How come we have technology to improve sight and hearing but not any of the other senses? What about a smelling aid? Sure sight and sound are the primary ways we navigate the world but the other senses get shafted. They're like the second class citizens of perception." way.
There are other issues. Like I think I have decently high standards AND I don't want to date above my station, therefore logically I have to improve myself to the point where I am the equivalent of someone I would date before I even start looking around. Plus other issues that are neurotic or low self-esteem based. Like I can't imagine anyone actually liking me or wanting to be around me, let alone loving me. When people spend time with me I generally think it's something of a favor. A bone thrown to a dog percieved as starving. That's probably not accurate. People like spending time with other people who are in most ways worse than me.
But I don't want to be in a relationship or even out on a date unless I think it could be special. That just holds no interest for me, it's like spending a day in the company of boring people. Pointless and tedious. I'd honestly rather be alone.
God that came out fractured, arrogant, and lame. I'm embarassed to even be associated with it. I'll put it up anyway since that's what I do. You'll have to excuse me now though. I've smeared some thumb blood on to my nose and am going to go contemplate with satisfaction the fact that I have a bloody nose but NOT because blood came out of my nose. Why do we call it a bloody nose anyway? We should call it a bleeding nose, that's what we mean. You can say "I had a bloody nose but it stopped" when there's still blood in your nose. I don't get that.
P.S. I really SHOULD be doing my work, but procrastination IS one of the things I'm best at. If I could find a sweet smart young thing who was in to neurotic corpulent unemployed guys who are GREAT procrastinators then I'd be set. Maybe I should take out an ad?