Wednesday 21 September 2016

Screaming into the abyss

It's no secret that I have some very jaded views when it comes to romance and relationships. It's easy for others to assume that I've been burned, but in reality I've never even given the concept a go, at least, not since the Vanstai incident.

After she passed away, I naively told myself I would wait for "the one", not just in terms of sex, but in terms of emotional bonding. I refused to open up completely to anyone that didn't stimulate my mind like she did, which of course, didn't happen. At least, not with someone that was available, or had mutual feelings, whether it was me who had the feelings, or someone else.

Due to this, despite some girl's advances on me, I never opened up or was intimate with anyone. The years flew by, and I flooded my mind with a cocktail of prescription drugs to numb the madness. Said drugs not only tamed the voices in my head, but also killed any sexual desires I once had for women, making me essentially asexual. Rarely did I ever meet any women who I fancied, and the few times that I did, I would either ignore them out of knowing they were out of my league, or out of suspicion of them putting up a facade. The few that I did speak to, would either drift away out of indifference, or would become friends.

I never took rejection personally, as to me, attraction is involuntary. We are in control of who we are attracted to as much as we're in control of the weather, that is to say, we have little to no input. It just happens.

I am now in  my mid 20's. It's been over a decade since Vanstai died, and I sometimes ask myself if this is truly the path I want to take. I realize that, if I don't do something now, I will, in fact, end up alone for the rest of my days. But what does "do something now" imply? My mind yells at me, and says that it involves a lot of exercise, hard work, and forceful interaction with other human beings, in hostile environments and situations, such as night clubs or popular bars, neither of which are of my taste. The other option, would be to settle for women in my league.
The morbidly obese, the uninspired, the mentally ill. That is not to say that I can't see myself being attracted to someone with these characteristics, simply that, at this given time, I have never been attracted to someone of said qualities, except maybe the craziness, which I will admit, can be beautiful, given the right conditions. The answer was, either settle, or be alone.

I thought, what was the purpose of settling? What would that fix? Would that fix the void that was left by Vanstai's death? Would a companion really help me in times of solitude within the mountains of Ferny, the hostility in Seattle, or the ominousness of Oaxaca?

No. It would not. There is no gain, other than the occasional partner to vent or speak to, but if we're not happy with each other, what's the point? Isn't love supposed to be reciprocated? Wouldn't two people who don't have mutual feelings for each other just end up hating each other due to a lack of mutual interests and experiences? Would my partner be brave enough to face the dangers and mysteries of the Oaxacan nightmare? Would she be able to handle the nights of delirium, madness, and sensory overload? Would she demand that I change my behavior? Would she attempt to keep me in stagnation for comfort? What would be the point of being with someone who doesn't understand the depth of my character, and doesn't have the courage to stand up the madness?

Said "partner" would be but another obstacle that I would need to overcome. Not someone who would help me grow, or that would allow me to assist in personal growth. Just a lazy lump that chains itself to me, and demands that I sit indifferently to the world around us, demanding comfort and security over the fight towards the blood thirsty beast that is modern society. No growth, only comfort.

Whilst alone, I may feel alone, standing against my personal darkness. The madness, as I call it. The voices, the hatred, the overwhelming heat of the anger and disdain I have towards some. I would prefer to stand up to all of these demons alone, than to even attempt to tackle them with someone who sees my struggles as childish or pointless. We live in an age of narcissism, and I refuse to assimilate to this retrograde culture.

I rather stand alone. I rather travel alone, and I rather die alone.

There are no other options. It's either this, or the lump. Those I wish I could obtain, are beyond my reach, for they do not want to be with a peasant like myself. Love is a fantasy to me, only obtainable through music or fiction. The only love I can have, is the love I give myself. The love I must train myself to have, and the love I have to force upon myself.