Sometime around midnight, I took my Facebook page down. If you would’ve asked me back in middle school whether that would be a big deal, I’d guess my response would be “what’s a Facebook?” Anyhow, I wonder how many of my friends will find me here. I’m guessing all of them.
Each defeat brings me one step closer to the edge. Or at least, it used to bring me one step closer to the edge. I’m officially at the edge. I’m not sure what makes Aiyana more special than any of the other girls I’ve pursued. I can’t exactly say that she is more special than any of the others. What I can say is that she was the last in the long line of failures. And I guess that designation does make one special. I just came to the conclusion that I’m tired of being around people who are happier than me, yet less deserving. I don’t mean to play the victim, but I’ve suffered. Hard. Long and hard. For what? To go 25 years alone? What sense does that make? I’ve seen druggies, alcoholics, delinquents, lazy bums, and the like all find girlfriends, meaningful relationships, and companionship, while I’m left to navel gaze? I call bullshit. I’ve been the good friend for so damn long that I’m…tired of being the good friend. I’d rather live up to the asshole title that I had to adopt or else the criticism would be too much. I’ve grown contemptuous of people for some time, and I can’t even pretend to fake camaraderie. I bluntly told someone who’s been something of a mentor to me “fuck you, and everything you stand for.” Basic words considering my lexicon, but it was a shocker. I took off my shoes, left the club, without a way for anyone to get in contact with me. That’s one of the benefits of not having a working phone, I suppose. Yet, I do look forward to getting a working phone in the next couple of days. I can’t watch the NBA Finals without Twitter. For seven years, I’ve been salsa’s curator. My reward has been extremely lacking. I didn’t sign up for friends; not that vain. I didn’t sign up for fame; eviscerating classmates did the trick. I didn’t sign up for glory; outsmarting Bill Cosby can leave all other trophies worthless by comparison. I signed up to find a girlfriend. That didn’t happen, so there needs to be a split, be it temporary or permanent. Something has to change. Skibbedebebop. Much later.
Current Track – Nobuo Uematsu “One Winged Angel”