So I find myself in what I suspect will be looked back upon as the terminal stages of a doomed relationship. I’m constantly surrounded by all the drama, and conflict, and that deepening feeling of loneliness that comes with the dying breaths of two people trying not to break up while they slowly admit to themselves that they need to. Every day becomes more stressful, and every new moment is filled with the sort of saddening music you might find in Donnie Darko. It’s a very very mad world.
And with no one to talk to concerning the problems in my personal life, I would maybe turn to my pseudo-girl to at least try and vent some of the stress of my legal problems. But alas, there is no relief on any side, so I come to my precious internet. This one place where even my close friends don’t hear what I say. The one place where I can vent without any worry about the repercussions. I stand alone, but I have my last frontier of personal expression, my writing. The only place where I can express my frustrations and not give a fuck who hears it.
Like for instance a little lady you might remember by the name of theblacksentinel. When I did my angry race rant she showed up to rag on the whole parade. Now, having been active on the internet for many years, I know how it is when you speak out on anything controversial. It won’t be long before you have some activist asshole tugging on your balls for attention and web space. I mean, I have occasionally gotten drunk during a really bad time in my life and even pissed off my internet friends, like Sundry. (if I can call her a friend, I hope so, I really respect her) But this hag was different, or should I say, much more common.
She did however do one thing that made me laugh my ass off. She posted an anti-me blog. And here’s the best part. It was titled, “Sprinting to Hell: with Gasoline Underwear”. How bad ass is that? I mean, no shit that is fucking awesome. I’ve had a lot, A LOT of internet trolls try and start shit with me, but this was by far the coolest. That should have been the title of my blog. I wish I had though of that. But it lets me know I’m doing something right. I wouldn’t feel like I were actually sprinting to hell if I didn’t piss off some folks along the way. I have a reputation to keep up. However the second best thing about this anti-me blog was the picture. I love it. Check this shit out.
Remember how I said you can’t fly a rebel flag without being labeled a KKK member? Well check out this real life photo of the people I work with. No, I’m kidding. I mean, I do know a few KKK members, but this is one of those ridiculous portraits of the south that has no basis in reality. There are definitely some racist white assholes here, and yes I have to deal with them, they have some good drugs. But almost no one who fly’s a rebel flag is racist. The rebel falg is all about loving dixie land, and not at all about hating black folks. I mean, without black folks we wouldn’t have the blues. And without the blues we wouldn’t have Rock and Roll. Or Aunt Jemima. Take your pick, they both rock.
So passing her by as a nuisance on the road of life, It comes right back to me and my relationship which may or may not be taking it’s dying breaths. I just got back from a birthday party for a friend of mine who turned 30. And I can’t help but ponder where I might be at thirty.
I saw a lot of the people I used to see with my last serious woman, and it made me kind of sad. I remembered the times we had, and the things we used to do, and you know, despite our breakup, I really did love that woman. She meant a lot to me before she left me. But time has passed, and that relationship is long gone. But I still wonder, how come I haven’t settled down like my friends? Why must I be the one with a personality too strong to match up? Is that part of me being me, or is it just me being an ass hole?
If I’m just one of those people who have a very strong personality, and that means I have to wait a lifetime to find someone who matches up well with me, then that is ok. I’m a very patient, self sufficient man. I don’t need anyone else to be there right now. But if many of my friends are correct, and their prediction of me being a man alone his entire life comes true, will I be alright with that? Will I be ok with missing all the things in life that people hold most dear?
What if I never have a wife. What if I never have a woman who tells me she loves me? What if I never have children, or experience being a father? What if never have anyone in my life, besides my immediate family, who ever loves me? What if I spend my life having sex, and never once make love? That would be harsh. I think I really don’t want to miss a woman, a wife, and fatherhood. I’m ok with spending time alone, in fact I need time alone, but I don’t want to be alone my whole life.
I know people who have never grown to the point that they could love someone. And I also know people who have always wanted someone to love, but never found them. And I also know peope who have married foolishly, and had the relationship blow up in their face. And I know people who have found their true loves, made homes, had children, and in the end, still not worked out, and split under bitter circumstances. I am hoping against hope that I can work through the problems that I am having right now, and that maybe this woman will be someone that I could fall in love with and spend my life loving. But honestly, every experience I’ve had says that’s a pipe dream and I need to worry about more immediate problems.
So how do you feel? Is there such a thing as true love. Does everyone have someone for them? Or are many of us just doomed to some half relationship with no love and no satisfaction? Is there a destiny of happiness, or should we look out for ourselves? And if we are destined to soulmates, what is your advise? And if we are destined to live alone, what is your advise?