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War All The Time
|Recently I received a comment on my website, www.bestthingyouneverhad.com, that was of particular interest. Usually, the few comments that I do receive are sympathetic, and they make an attempt to relate to me as a human. This one was interesting, and I'm still not quite sure what I think about it. I believe it is from a girl in Canada, so if that is you, feel free to follow up with me. The comment goes as follows:|
How many girls talk to you because they
a) wanna fix you
b) wanna fuck you
c) actually understand you
the assumption : course they understand you they see you are smart, capable, and just a little broken surely with their glue you will be whole again. whole and theirs like some favourite art project. the one that took them forever but they did it, and now its theirs.
the realistic knowledge: everyone wants to fix you because the main human response to another beautiful articulate human broken is to fix them. your broken and handsome a tragedy waiting for its fairy tale ending. so they will rush you, slowly consume you...wait you out because girls are meticulous and cunning like this. smart, handsome, broken...if they just wait it out and they fix you...it'll work...
as for understanding, only someone thats been in your position with an objective opinion can really understand you. no one can fix you but yourself. and many a people are going to want to fuck you.
my only real comment is said with a certain sigh.... how will you ever find love as a broken boy.
swarmed with all the fakeness you wont see....because your just dying for anything.
First off, I have to say that not many girls talk to me. I get comments occasionally, but the number of females that I communicate with regularly can be counted on one hand.
Point A: Do they want to fix me? Maybe. I am glad that you present the realistic side of the argument. When we find something broken, do we not usually want to repair it? Do we not want it to be as useful and efficient as it was meant to be? Why would people want to let other people remain broken? I do not want to become the science project of some lonely girl, but to say that I want no assistance in my repair would be false. We all need help. Always.
Point B: If there are girls who want to fuck me, they are doing a wonderful job of remaining hidden. Seriously, if you are so inspired by my words and thoughts that you want to have sex with me, let me know. If you meet my approval, I will gladly fly you out to Georgia, and you can have your way with me. Maybe if you are lucky, I will scream out pseudo-poetic phrases, obscure observations, trite lyrics, and statements of self pity while you fuck my brains out. My transformation into a new Bukowski will be that much more complete.
In all honesty, I am fairly certain these girls don't exist.
Point C: As for understanding, you are correct. The only people who can understand are the ones who have been in my position, or currently are. I do not expect my words and expressions to enlighten people. In a sense, I would like them to understand, and I make every attempt to have this happen.
This is a huge part of who I am. This is consuming. If I cannot begin to help somebody at least try to comprehend this experience, then what is the point of any relationship I may have? Why would I want to have anything to do with a person who has no grasp of what being me is truly like? I want that bond. I want that understanding. I do not want my relationships to be a documentary, or some sort of social experiment. I do not want to be part of an exhibit.
A fairy tale ending. A light at the end of the tunnel. A yellow bird. These are things that everyone hopes for, especially people in desperate situations. Everyone wants to be saved. You are lying to yourself if you say otherwise.
Smart, I am. Too smart. Handsome, not necessarily. Broken, absolutely. Girls are indeed cunning. They are heinous creatures, and yet they are wonderful gifts. You know you have found something incredible when you meet one who achieves a balance of ruthlessness and beauty.
Most girls do not want to wait this out. Meticulous, they are at times, but not when it comes to this. I have had numerous relationships fail due to my recent situation, and several others that have failed to evolve, simply because I was not ready for them to turn into more than what they were. They do not have the time to wait this out. They want instant gratification. They cannot handle the amount of selfishness that I currently operate with. I do not expect them to. I am okay with that.
I see the fakeness, make no mistake. I am an amazing judge of character. I no longer waste my time with those who do not deserve it. As for the people wanting to fuck me, well, last I checked there were no ladies at my door. I am not dying for anything. I am dying for something.
You raise an excellent question, my dear. How will a boy as broken as me find love? How will a person so completely fucking shattered find something worth hanging on to?
The truth is, I won't. I know that I won't.
It will find me.
|Tags: journal, comment, blog, sex, life, anxiety, depression, love, Bukowski, understanding