Random Ramblings CCLXXXV · 6:59am Jun 25th, 2018
IN WHICH I DISTRACT MYSELF
For this One Hundred Eighty-Fifth blog, I hope you have your towel…
Sorry the entry number isn't divisible by 42, but that's the least of my worries. Anyway…
First of all, let's talk about how lonely I've been feeling lately. Granted, I'm the type of guy who literally feels more lonely in a crowd than when I'm actually alone. Some people can't handle solitude. I can. Very easily in fact. I have no siblings, which is a big part of it. It also means I got used to talking to myself when no one else was around. That said, I've been missing my ex a lot lately. I'm not stupid; I know she's never coming back and has made it clear she wants to erase the years 2008 to 2016 from her memory -- which is a bit extreme; I wasn't that horrible to her.
My mother lives with me (NOT the other way 'round) and she's never quite understood my *ahem* issues. Sometimes she takes personal offended if I act asocial or antisocial. She also gets angry with me when I spend all day in bed -- never mind that I'm a natural night owl (why else do you think I write these posts in the middle of the night?).
She also distrusts mental health professionals because she doesn't like "labels" -- she's an unreconstructed hippie who makes me look like a frothing conservative (when in reality I'm an out and proud leftist… but also a rationalist thanks to having a goddamn degree in both the theory and practical bits of government).
Labels can help, not just hurt. At least now I know what I am. My condition is chronic and cannot be cured, simply ameliorated somewhat through therapy and pillz. Speaking of which… *gulp* …ah there we go. Last daily dose before going to sleep. Regrettably it doesn't seem like the pillz have helped lately. I still feel terrible. I'm only mostly asocial.
Maybe I mentioned this before, but at the Babymetal concert I met this really nice (and cute) girl. She had bright purple hair, which my ex once had. She also has a similar body type to my ex, except not morbidly obese (despite our best efforts, the lowest my ex was able to get was ~65lbs overweight… and then would gain 30lbs back within less than a month -- I genuinely believe she has an undiagnosed thyroid problem; gaining that much weight that quickly with zero change in diet or activity is not normal; same thing happened to her to an even more extreme degree when she was in high school -- regrettably, I think she may have gotten even worse since she left me, because her new husband, who is heavier than me, is even more of a pushover than I am). I want to get to know this new girl better, but she's quite the social butterfly, which I'm… not. And yet she seems to genuinely like me as a person. I have zero idea how to approach someone so cool and popular. Also, sexual compatibility might be an issue. As is the fact that she's a lot younger than me (still legal though).
Then of course there's my old hometown friend, now in Chicago/Istanbul, on whom I've had a mad crush for 20 years. But she's bettered herself to the point she's way out of my league. She's going to have a Ph.D soon, leaving me in the dust. She insists she doesn't think any less of me for having not as much education as her. But I think less of me for not having as much education, even though my reasoning for not pursuing anything beyond a B.A was, "There's a risk I may literally kill myself from stress". Regardless…
I try to be a nice guy but I think deep down I'm actually a Nice Guy™.
You know, one of those guys who's actually a massive douchenozzle and can't get/keep a girlfriend because he can't face up to the fact that he's just a walking female repellent. The Friendzone is real, people. Apparently some girls get friendzoned too, which honestly shocks me. Women have agency; they can and should say no if they mean no. One lady-friend who I'd gladly shag if given the chance told me upfront she wasn't interested in me as anything more than a friend. It sucks because she's ridiculously hot, but I appreciated her honesty.
I can't hate women too much. Most of my friends are women. Or gay men. Or transfolk. Yeah, I attract the Rejected of Trumpmerica despite being a straight White Southern boy (i.e. The Enemy).
My life has this weird tendency to turn into versions of scenarios and stories I've already written. Anyway, moving on…
I have been having SO much trouble getting Sonata's second burrito story to work. I took the extraordinary step today of putting actual pen to actual paper to write some of Sonata's monologue. The physical feel did help to drag some sentences out of me that I can use, but what I have simply isn't long enough yet. It's going to take some more work. I hate working on Burrito monologues -- they should be stream-of-consciousness and done in one or two goes.
Obviously I've lost my mojo. If I ever had it to begin with. What to do?
Write a completely different story, of course!
Do you like Rarity and Applejack? I do. I simultaneously ship them and don't. That previous sentence will make more sense once the story is out. I've already hinted at this in at least one SRA story. Hey, poor Rarity has to vent to someone about her shitty love life other than Flash Sentry, right?
Plus there was a scene that I really wanted to write because it's just so Applejack and I thought it was funny.
Through this story, like so many others I've written, I reveal more about the world I've created.
Readers have told me that they often miss the little morsels of continuity I throw in because they don't read every story. I don't really know what to say about that. I want to apologize, but at the same time, I don't feel I should have to. If a bunch of stories are connected, shouldn't one read all of them and not just pick and choose? My THE GUIDE exists for a reason.
Anyway, It's 2am and I'm kinda sleepy. Thanks for reading my rant.
Peace out!
Mental health professionals are so fucking important and I don't know where I'd be without some. If your mother ever tells you she's not into labels again use this analogy on her. "There's a difference between putting a cat in a box and letting a cat go in a box themselves." Labels help us define ourselves better and find other people like us. We accept the labels we put on ourselves because we like them and it's a way for us to more accurately convey information, rather than them being imposed on us.
I don't think I want to go to my 10 year school reunion because of how so far fucking behind I am of everyone else. Even the guy who didn't graduate high school with me is father ahead in life than I am by a long shot. So we can try to be miserable together yeah? Only reason I'd possibly go is to hear about what other people are up to and make others feel good rather than going their for my own sake.
I skirted the line between actually genuinely good guy and nice guy TM for awhile. But now I'm definitely more of a genuinely good guy. At least that's what people tell me. :P Try not to worry too much about it and just avoid certain behaviors if you're concerned.
I know how you feel about losing mojo. I have this incredibly hard time acquiring inspiration for specific stories. I've got all the details planned out for the second chapter in Life is Miserable yet the inspiration to put all those details together just hasn't struck me yet. And it won't come out naturally without that inspiration.