Rant
Here is something I wrote in response to a comment in another forum, I feel it may give you some insight into my pysche:
I'm using the word retarded literally. Some parts of my personality are retarded; slow, delayed, hindered, get out your thesaurus and play along. I'm not being paranoid or anything when I say this, it's just an absolute true fact. Believe me, if you did meet me, you'd understand. I can type pretty good, but trust me, I'm retarded in "reality".
Believe me, there was no chemistry felt either way on this date. I've basically resigned myself to the fact that I'll be alone. It's just who I am. I can't afford to waste my time with this pointless game called love. This past weeks experience reinforced this notion. Sure, love is probably great. I wish day in and day out that I could fall in love, or even fall in like with someone. If life was like the movies, like Forrest Gump, As Good as it Gets, Benny and June, A Beautiful Mind, maybe that crazy eccentric weirdo could fall in love. But life isn't like the movies.
When you see some homeless guy ranting on the streets, do you think to yourself "why, there's a charming young fellow, I'd marry him in a heartbeat"? No, you look away. Why? He's clearly eccentric. He's clearly the underdog. Isn't life like the movies?
When you see some 20 year old highschool dropout, too lazy to shave, living at home, scrounging from failed job to failed job, hasn't showered in 4 days, trying to coast his way through yet another failed attempt at a career, walking aimlessly through the park wearing tattered clothes, smelling of cigarette smoke and musk, eyeing people with contempt as they near as he slinks away to the dark shadows so as to avoid any god-forsaken human contact, getting yelled at just for looking at one of the "norms" because he's just the failure, the freak, the good-for-nothing slob who slumps his perverted, disease-ridden, sleep depraved face from one shadow to the next, just trying to get enough sun to keep his eyes from becoming black holes, just eating enough to fend off scurvy, hoping the insects hiding in every crack of his fetid body will give him West Nile Virus just so someone will show sympathy, just so someone will care. Do you find that charming? Is that like in the movies?
How about today when I spent this beautiful sunny day holed up in my darkened bedroom, all the curtains drawn tight, bleeding all over my clothes and the floor as I wrung my guitar's neck like a discarded rag. Peaking through the shades every time I heard something outside. Keeping the cordless phone by my side at all times just in case someone, anyone called. Cursing all the while, because damn it if that phone didn't ring once all day. My email inbox never binged once as I checked it every 5 minutes, cursing the ever familiar zero popping up on the screen.
How about when I go out when its dark, just walking for no reason, hoping I'll meet someone. Walking to all the "popular" spots in town, only to find myself spying at them from the shadows.
What about when I searched for "females" in "Bracebridge" on MSN, just so I could send the same form email message to each and every person in the list, hoping I'll get at least one reply. Staring at the computer screen for the rest of the night waiting for an email to arrive. Cursing out loud each time I see the "zero" once again. Or when I repeated the procedure for Yahoo, and for ICQ. I even sent an email to some random woman saying "meet me [insert place name here] at [insert time here]" just to give myself some disgustingly optimistic hope. Maybe [random woman] got the message and is intrigued. I actually waited there all night expecting someone to come. Can you even believe that? Can you fathom it?
Is that charming like in the movies?
Sorry for the rant when I should be thanking you for trying to console me.
Edit: Or how about after that aforementioned date? I went home and thought about it for a few minutes. I knew where she usually hung out from previous conversations. I went out to find her. I wanted another chance. Oh, I did find her alright. But I kept my distance, spying from the shadows. Will she run away screaming if she sees me? Will all those other people beat me up? Beat up the freak? She left, went down the street. Should I follow her? What am I doing? I asked myself as I began to walk. For 4 hours I kept tabs on her. I finally broke from the shadows and began to approach her, I couldn't have been more than 6 feet behind her when she suddenly turned and got into a car. Vroom. Gone. Is that charming or is it creepy? Who would marry someone like me?
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