My apologies to anyone that read the post that was here for the last three hours. I had to delete it because it was too cryptic for anyone but me, too easily misuderstood, too damn ugly to leave up here...I realized that as I took my late-night stroll through the neighborhood. The same stroll that allowed me time to think about what I wanted to put up to replace that garbage. The same stroll that inspired this existential rambling...if you're weak-hearted or sick of my bitching, you better turn your head away, but I need to scream at the world in a bad, bad way.
The thing is, I am sick of this world. I am sick and tired of the people that it is filled with, I am sick and tired of the lies. I am tired of the hate, of the jealousy, of the usery, and the spitefulness. I am sick of the wickedness, the narcissism, the materialism, and the anger. I am fed up with the endless one upmanship, the selfishness, the wretchedness, and the violence. And most of all, I am sick of being the person that I am in it.
I am a good person. I live my life, to the best of my ability, in Love. That means that I give and give, without expecting anything in return. Or so I think, or at least thought. I do expect some things -- things like respect, maybe a thank you now and then, maybe even someone or two taking from my mentorship a sense of what it means to live your life in the way that I do. Instead, I am used. Thoreau once said, and I posted the quote here a month or two back, that "he who gives himself entirely to his fellow man appears to him useless and selfish, but he who gives himself only partially appears to him a benefactor and philanthropist." I may have that wrong as to the exact wording, but that is okay because I repeated it from memory as they are the words that I live by, or at least the warning by which I view my situation. In any case, most everyone that I come across in life views me as somehow being useless and selfish, even though I am anything but. It doesn't matter whether it is the woman in her car that I allow to turn onto the road in front of me or the bastard who selfishly blocks the door of a business I am trying to get into but to whom I take the responsibility to say that I'm sorry that they have to move, but little things like that are just, well, little things. It is family for which I bend over backwards to please only to have my faults thrown in my face, the friends to which I am completely honest but in turn feel a need to lie to me, the women who take me on as a faux-boyfriend when their "real" jackass boyfriend isn't all that they are looking for in a relationship (only to, of course, return to them when things become less troubled), the bosses that complain that I don't do enough when I already go above and beyond my duties, the preachers who tell me I am going to Hell for not following this little rule or not believing that, the teachers who fail me even though I learned more than they even began to teach, these are the things that irk me the most. I give and I give and I give, but all that is given to me is harshness and nothingness, anxeity, hatred, and loneliness. I Love, but receive none. I give but am given nothing. Even though a thank you, a sense of recognition, would be enough.
But I lie again (I am not perfect, so a little lie here and there is not such a bad thing). I do want more. I want to be providential, I want to look out at the world and see that my being good gets me just as far, even further, than those that do bad. But they are rich, they have a warm body next to them at night, they are listened to, they are worshipped, they are cared about, they are respected and thanked for every goddam little thing that they do. I want those things. I want to be comfortable, I do not want to lie awake at night wondering about what could be, what should be for me. I want my good deeds to be rewarded, if not by much, by something. I want to be loved, to be listened to, to matter. I want to be someone that, as Mark Twain once wrote, when I die even the undertaker will be upset. I just want to fucking matter. I don't want my life to be meaningless, I don't want to be overlooked and taken for granted. I deserve more than that. I deserve to have the chance to be the sun in someone's sky, to have someone take my heart and cradle it gently in their arms, to be beautiful.
But that is just a dream, I have my head in the sand and I damn well know it. That is not how the world works. It is the liars and the cheaters and the scumbags that win, not guys like me, not the ones that care. It is the people that are less than genteel that get ahead in life. The ones that are painfully less than perfect (as opposed to my just being less than perfect). The ones that don't give a damn. The ones that don't even try.
I don't get it. I just don't. Maybe it's because people like to see the ones that don't deserve it to win in the end. Maybe it's because I don't lock up my feelings, feelings being seen as a weakness to the masses. Maybe my social life sucks because people would rather hang out with, or for that matter fuck, people that they can mold and change and otherwise work to improve, someone that isn't as sure of themselves as I. Maybe my fiscal life seems woefully inadaquate because people would rather see someone suffer in working than allow someone that can do it and love it to do it. Maybe people step on me because I let them, apologizing to them afterward for having gotten underneath their foot. Maybe being good is not what life is all about.
And that's what I come to. I could not care, I could not try, I could not Love. I could be the everyman, the one that steps out into the middle of traffic because I figure everyone should wait for me. I could be the one that uses women and then throws them out at the end of the night. I could be vain, be emotionless, be an asshole hellbent on shaping the world in a way that best suits me. I could say what other people want to hear instead of the truth. I could pretend to be better than I am. I could be the one that steps on other people. I could be the fucking greatest human being that's ever walked this earth, if only in the eyes of the people that venerate the assholes. But then I would be truly unhappy, then I would be living a lie, then I would have nothing to live for...for the only thing that keeps me alive is the idea that I stand for something, that I am true to myself, and that I believe in a higher power. If I did not have that, I truly believe that I would have killed myself a long time ago, for that would be an empty life. But all of this leaves me with two options: either live my life in wretched thanklessness but be happy in my heart, or be worshipped and unhappy in my heart.
And yet I choose to be happy...and lonely...and unappreciated...and wasted...and broke...
Happiness is overrated.
...I feel better now, thanks.
The thing is, I am sick of this world. I am sick and tired of the people that it is filled with, I am sick and tired of the lies. I am tired of the hate, of the jealousy, of the usery, and the spitefulness. I am sick of the wickedness, the narcissism, the materialism, and the anger. I am fed up with the endless one upmanship, the selfishness, the wretchedness, and the violence. And most of all, I am sick of being the person that I am in it.
I am a good person. I live my life, to the best of my ability, in Love. That means that I give and give, without expecting anything in return. Or so I think, or at least thought. I do expect some things -- things like respect, maybe a thank you now and then, maybe even someone or two taking from my mentorship a sense of what it means to live your life in the way that I do. Instead, I am used. Thoreau once said, and I posted the quote here a month or two back, that "he who gives himself entirely to his fellow man appears to him useless and selfish, but he who gives himself only partially appears to him a benefactor and philanthropist." I may have that wrong as to the exact wording, but that is okay because I repeated it from memory as they are the words that I live by, or at least the warning by which I view my situation. In any case, most everyone that I come across in life views me as somehow being useless and selfish, even though I am anything but. It doesn't matter whether it is the woman in her car that I allow to turn onto the road in front of me or the bastard who selfishly blocks the door of a business I am trying to get into but to whom I take the responsibility to say that I'm sorry that they have to move, but little things like that are just, well, little things. It is family for which I bend over backwards to please only to have my faults thrown in my face, the friends to which I am completely honest but in turn feel a need to lie to me, the women who take me on as a faux-boyfriend when their "real" jackass boyfriend isn't all that they are looking for in a relationship (only to, of course, return to them when things become less troubled), the bosses that complain that I don't do enough when I already go above and beyond my duties, the preachers who tell me I am going to Hell for not following this little rule or not believing that, the teachers who fail me even though I learned more than they even began to teach, these are the things that irk me the most. I give and I give and I give, but all that is given to me is harshness and nothingness, anxeity, hatred, and loneliness. I Love, but receive none. I give but am given nothing. Even though a thank you, a sense of recognition, would be enough.
But I lie again (I am not perfect, so a little lie here and there is not such a bad thing). I do want more. I want to be providential, I want to look out at the world and see that my being good gets me just as far, even further, than those that do bad. But they are rich, they have a warm body next to them at night, they are listened to, they are worshipped, they are cared about, they are respected and thanked for every goddam little thing that they do. I want those things. I want to be comfortable, I do not want to lie awake at night wondering about what could be, what should be for me. I want my good deeds to be rewarded, if not by much, by something. I want to be loved, to be listened to, to matter. I want to be someone that, as Mark Twain once wrote, when I die even the undertaker will be upset. I just want to fucking matter. I don't want my life to be meaningless, I don't want to be overlooked and taken for granted. I deserve more than that. I deserve to have the chance to be the sun in someone's sky, to have someone take my heart and cradle it gently in their arms, to be beautiful.
But that is just a dream, I have my head in the sand and I damn well know it. That is not how the world works. It is the liars and the cheaters and the scumbags that win, not guys like me, not the ones that care. It is the people that are less than genteel that get ahead in life. The ones that are painfully less than perfect (as opposed to my just being less than perfect). The ones that don't give a damn. The ones that don't even try.
I don't get it. I just don't. Maybe it's because people like to see the ones that don't deserve it to win in the end. Maybe it's because I don't lock up my feelings, feelings being seen as a weakness to the masses. Maybe my social life sucks because people would rather hang out with, or for that matter fuck, people that they can mold and change and otherwise work to improve, someone that isn't as sure of themselves as I. Maybe my fiscal life seems woefully inadaquate because people would rather see someone suffer in working than allow someone that can do it and love it to do it. Maybe people step on me because I let them, apologizing to them afterward for having gotten underneath their foot. Maybe being good is not what life is all about.
And that's what I come to. I could not care, I could not try, I could not Love. I could be the everyman, the one that steps out into the middle of traffic because I figure everyone should wait for me. I could be the one that uses women and then throws them out at the end of the night. I could be vain, be emotionless, be an asshole hellbent on shaping the world in a way that best suits me. I could say what other people want to hear instead of the truth. I could pretend to be better than I am. I could be the one that steps on other people. I could be the fucking greatest human being that's ever walked this earth, if only in the eyes of the people that venerate the assholes. But then I would be truly unhappy, then I would be living a lie, then I would have nothing to live for...for the only thing that keeps me alive is the idea that I stand for something, that I am true to myself, and that I believe in a higher power. If I did not have that, I truly believe that I would have killed myself a long time ago, for that would be an empty life. But all of this leaves me with two options: either live my life in wretched thanklessness but be happy in my heart, or be worshipped and unhappy in my heart.
And yet I choose to be happy...and lonely...and unappreciated...and wasted...and broke...
Happiness is overrated.
...I feel better now, thanks.
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