I feel empty because I'm alone right now. I'm typing into my computer at 2 in the morning, while listening to the album "Things Fall Apart" by The Roots. Perhaps the title of that album is appropriate. Tonight, as I have felt for a while now, I was in no mood to talk to mediocre girls. My tolerance is especially low. I mean, what's the fucking point? Sure, I've talked to plenty of good-looking girls. But where is the substance? Where is the girl who I can truly call my equal? Where the fuck are they?
In my state of mild inebriation, I'll go ahead and admit a couple things here and now. Earlier tonight, a group of four girls approached me and began to rub their hands on my chest; they were impressed with my pectoral muscles. By writing this am I showing off right now? Sure. But what does it matter? It seems apparent that I work-out for no one's benefit but my own. No one sees the fruits of my labor, physical or otherwise. The main girl who was showing me attention just annoyed the fuck out of me. She was a Persian girl, not bad-looking at all, but my gut just told me that she was a waste of time. She said that she was a psychic, and somehow predicted successfully that I have a tattoo. Great, I thought to myself, can you predict when I will actually meet a girl that I'm attracted to who will likewise be attracted to me?
It's all really pointless. The only girl who I'm really, totally in to these days is totally inaccessible, already dating someone else, and my credentials come nowhere close to his, because for me to do so would mean to delete my educational degrees, height, intelligence, and any number of other factors. This kind of thing deeply demoralizes me. It makes me believe that I'm either too good or -- what I really think is the case -- I'm not "normal" or "average" enough for any girls. And ultimately, when I reflect upon this situation, I realize that it makes me feel that I'm being arrogant and condescending, which only makes me feel shittier about myself.
Fine, I'll go to sleep now. And I'll wake up tomorrow feeling optimistic again, right. But how long can I go on deceiving myself? Am I really destined to be alone? Or, to be realistic, am I truly destined to end up with some hot girl who is as empty as a poor man's cookie jar? Should I accept my destiny as having to fuck the shit out of a hot girl, who simultaneously has no interest in a single book I read, no interest in my career as a lawyer, no interest in my heart and soul, no interest in the thoughts that constantly course through my head?
Right now, I hate every fucking girl who exists. You can all go to hell. You can all strive for mediocrity. You can all chase your dreams while ignoring the need to be with a man. And in a year or two years or five years or ten years, you can all curse yourselves for having your head up your ass for so long.
Yeah, you better believe I feel bitter at 2:11 in the morning, after going out on the town tonight. Water, water everywhere, but not a drop to drink. I feel that I'm too good and, at the same time, not good enough for anyone. And yet, I'm still too stubborn to ever fucking settle. That shit's not gonna happen, and you can take that shit to the bank.
I end this while listening to "You Got Me" by The Roots. And despite all my bitterness and frustration, I dream for the day that a girl will actually feel the words of this song, and sing it to me in her own words, from her own heart, to me, to my heart, to my soul, while looking deep into my eyes:
If you were worried 'bout where
I been, or who I saw or,
what club I went to with my homies,
baby, don't worry, you know that you got me.
No comments:
Post a Comment