I haven’t felt this bad since I
worked myself up over Nikki. It’s moments like these that make me
not want to be alive. I want to start drinking and smoking. I want to
hurt people. I don’t care about happiness and life becomes a cheap
thrill. I could talk for days and I’ll always be the quintessential
“guy” that did everything bad. I’ll lose points by setting a
defense because people will think “Oh great, now he’s
trying to be the victim. All I ever wanted was real people. I want
what can make us happy. If that means sex shit, then great whatever,
but who cares to believe that that isn’t what its actually about?
At this moment I’m quite lost. Honesty is the one thing I have.
About my mistakes, about my feelings, about my seemingly endless
contradiction of words. And I try. I don’t like to feel bad and
don’t invite stress until it comes to mitigating my torrent of
thoughts. I’ll take an idea from Mr. Bowman and reiterate it. I
just want people to be happy. I don’t like the conditional
happiness as in “I’ll be sad until I get another boyfriend” or
“it sucks to be me until I get some new thing or experience.”
Just happy. What makes things complicated is when I think about what
has made me closest to consistant and genuine happiness. That thing
is the dreaded honesty. Frankly, just like Bowman, I really do just
hate the majority of the things I do, most of the people I interract
with, and the future I see for us doomed apes. In a strident
contradiction, I still feel empathy when someone I care about is
distressed. I still can’t be “perfectly” happy unless I read
the people around me as exuding as such. It’s then I get to buy
into the lie and forsake my ideals. I play along with everyone for
the sake of formality and avoidance of awkward silences. It’s easy
to fit in with a few marginally funny comments and help with a favor,
so why bother on some tangent about how much better things could be.
There’s a reason their called ideals and not practices.
It must be pure fun to be everyone’s
friend and still nothing but a shell floating amidst the waves of
other’s personalities. I’ve decided I can’t do it. It is my
current strategy to just avoid conflict. “If you don’t have
anything nice to say....” Great advice for someone who feels how
empty the nice sayings can get. I really hate drama, pain, and fights
over what I consider a little, though time consuming, problem of
misunderstanding. I must be retarded when it comes to this though. It
actually takes me getting punched and kicked to signal to myself
“maybe you should do this instead.” It just hurts. It hurts to
think that I can’t be happy, even a vague semblence of it, unless I
play the many games. I hate thinking of how dishonest I would feel
around my “friends” by just choosing to go about our
interractions in a different way. Either path means I have to
sacrifice something hugely significant to what I consider towards my
identity. I don’t care who you are, if we’re going to be friends,
I can find what it is that makes you special and focus on that. I can
just as easily find everything wrong with you, as I’m sure you
could with me, but its easy to ignore or just joke about when we both
can reflect on whatever our level of understanding happens to be. I
don’t know why this is so hard to accept.
It isn’t cheating to me to make
people feel good. If your thing is just someone to sleep next to,
yell at for five minutes, or use to move furniture, if I know it will
make your life easier or make you happy then I want to do it. It
feels good to feel significant and it feels good for people to treat
you like you matter. I can give myself in numerous capacities and
still feel a hundred percent satisfaction in return if I conveyed to
someone that they matter. I can’t pander to dreams and play some
romantic angle if the feeling isn’t there. I’m not that kind of
friend. I want the significance of any given moment, and I
desperately hope to make people aware and happy to be living in it.
If they can’t, I can’t.
