I got a random call from T, not sure what that's all about. I'm guessing she's reminiscing about our new years celebration from last year and maybe she got a little weak. It was a lot of fun, everything was brand new, we got it on in the hotel bathroom, I ripped her stockings open and proceeded to ravage her in a primal way...its everything you could want to start off the new year. We had a midnight kiss, followed by childish making out in a restaurant booth and hopping in and out of taxis...yeah it was kind of like some movie shit where we both just let go and had fun. I even recall a fight in the hotel hallway topped off with someone crawling on their hands and knees trying to get away from some ass beating (every one was insanely drunk). Hmmmmm...so yeah if she can top that new years off with someone else I'd have to give her some sort of an award. Anyway, I hit her back but she didn't return my call so I'm guessing it was a moment of weakness.
I'm just really struggling with what to do with my life next. I know I'm just sitting wasting away and I feel the fungus of stagnation eating away at me. Its very aggravating. I can't seem to have fun doing anything and nothing seems interesting anymore. I think my depression may be getting worse but its hard to tell from day to day. If I could take snapshots of myself without living in myself I could more easily tell. I'm passing the time with movies and games and reading random articles and thesis on racism, rape, globalization, business, government contracting, economic theory and linear algebra. I have these sudden bursts of obsessive thoughts that force me to read for hours and then it subsides and I think about myself and I become angry. I think to myself that I should have patience and that I am going through a stage. I don't quite understand myself but I must keep faith that on some level I am working all this out and I will come to an overall consensus on what I want to do and where I should be headed. It won't come over night-- at least that's what I keep telling myself.
I'm really worried I'm always going to be unsatisfied with everything and it makes me not want to do anything. Isn't that strange? One would think if you're feeling unsatisfied then you would try as many different things as possible in hopes of changing your current state...however I am so unsatisfied that it is unsatisfying to THINK of attempting something else because it MIGHT NOT change my state which would lead me to a more unsatisfied state-- if there is such a thing. However, knowing that I can not become satisfied in my current state the only real alternative is to actually do something.
I spent time with two women these past 3 days and my mood didn't really change. I am definitely coming to the conclusion that my unhappiness has NOTHING to do with the women in my life. I'd like to blame them but this would be incorrect and lead me in a never ending circle. I get annoyed with them from time to time but they are not the source. I also don't think its my its my job either. I think I've been to work 8 out of the last 20 days and my happiness has actually decreased substantially. That being said, I think it is a rather safe assumption that I enjoy working and as much as I like to clock watch from time to time I would rather be at work than do nothing. I am desperately looking for meaning and a purpose outside of work but I have a very tough time finding it. Why? Nothing seems worth it. Why? I don't value anything. Why? Apathy. Can apathy be cured? Hold on let me google...ok I'm back-- well that yielded almost no results. Do some random acts of kindness. I HATE doing that, I HATE being nice to people. Its such a hard thing for me to do. Hmmmm, I think I figured out why I like to cook for women. I think its something that's different, most women don't think guys can cook. I'm complimented, I get to be creative. Yep, its like a puppy being rewarded for good behavior. This is sadly basic but its something I do ALOT and I don't even know it. I think I spent about 8 hours picking the ingredients (spared no expense) to cook a perfect dinner for her (Ashley). WHY? To see the look on her face, so she could enjoy herself. I think this has become more important than the relationship. I constantly seek praise from other people, especially women. Its acknowledgement. When I don't get it from people I stop talking to them. That's why I go through such painstaking efforts to do things other black men typically don't, because I like to be seen as different. I hate assimilation because with it comes expected behavior which means I would never get any gratifying praise. Hmmmmm...so I think the woman I'll fall for is one that continually gives me praise...hmmm my mother always gives me praise, maybe this is why I always call my mother. So does my aunt-- and I always call her. This is absurdly basic in nature but I guess I overlooked that-- I overlooked the possibility that I could be basic because most people are basic and I don't want to be like most people. What if I'm not complex? Oh nooooo....does that make me STUPID? What an irrational set of hypothesis and conclusions.
So here we are. I love to be praised. I'd like to make a distinction though-- I don't like to be worshiped. I hate when people worship (especially women) me. In fact, I think I only started wanting V back when she stopped letting me stick it in her ass and consequently grew a serious backbone. Of course by that time it was a bit to late. Women who worship me tend to get used in the worse way. Uhhhhh, hence my attachment to T. She would never let me walk all over her, she didn't worship me but she did praise me. I loved that praise, I ate it up. 'Look mommy look what I did' type shit.
I hate psycho analyzing myself but I'm the only one who can figure this stuff out...not because I'm so smart but just because I'm the only one with enough insight to take these disconnected pieces and make sense of it all. Its all too convoluted even for the more skilled shrinks. They are always interested in me though. Speaking of which, man I wanted to fuck the hell out of my counselor back in school. She was curly haired light skin chick, thick lips, very skinny, maybe about 5'10, b cup tits...but she had these eyes. I could tell a lot was going on. I always wanted to ask her about her persona life, and sometimes she would give me tidbits, I think to establish trust on my part-- which was fine, I played along to gain more insight. We played mind games a lot, sometimes I thought we were so close-- we would just fuck. At least those were my fantasies, I think I was in a lot of pain and I wanted to be safely nestled inside of her-- she could tell I literally want to pour myself into her. But I think about it now...she laid on the praise, god did she praise me. Perhaps she was sharper than I thought, maybe she did it on purpose. She fed me little bits of praise, our sessions always ran over, she never seemed to care, she bumped me ahead of 100 other people because I was the first black male she had the pleasure of counseling. Sometimes I wonder what she wrote about me. Even to this day I wonder where she's at, if she has her own practice. I'm sure I wouldn't want to find out. I would assume she's probably married some white doctor or lawyer and my perception of her was probably so far off the mark it would probably anger me to see her outside of the counseling setting. Why would it anger me? Because I feel hopeless to change the situation. Why would I want to change it? Its her life, she's like 12 years older than me, wtf are you thinking? I'm not...these are irrational thoughts. So I really shouldn't be mad...would I even care? Probably not...but I might be a little put off. Shouldn't you just be happy for her? Yeah I should, the perception of her was that she is a nice person and deserves to be happy.
Something profound happened when the engine of my car needed to be replaced 2 years in. I devoted all my energy to fighting Mazda. I used all my intellect to make a deal. I organized my time, I optimized my money, everything I did had a purpose, I had a single goal. Rise above it all. Why can't I always have that? Why can't I always have that since of urgency? That's how I felt when I was at school...I had such a since of purpose, even when the end result wasn't clear I just kept working. I'm scared that I've used up all that focus.
Or maybe I just need to risk everything... risk it all. Give it all up, not because I want more, but because it'll make me feel alive again.