Image: I Have Lots of Problems Too. I'm Just Like You... Except I'm Not.

Not too long ago, I realised I'd answered a question of mine, a question I'd asked myself ages ago. How ever long ago it was, I looked at all the things that I don't like about myself, the things that are 'wrong' with me—the way I eat, my difficulty in dealing with social situations and change in life, my discomfort around trying new things, the list goes on—and I wondered if there was a central issue surrounding it all. I thought "well, if there's a central problem inherent in all these smaller issues, then I only have one problem to solve, and it'll be my first step to making my life a whole lot better". Oblivious to my discovery, I summed it up in an earlier entry with these words:

The fact of the matter is: I'm not willing to take risks anymore. I don't want to talk to this girl for fear of embarrassment and rejection; I don't want to ask anyone to let me perform comedy for fear of social contact and disturbing the status quo (in terms of scheduling: you have no idea how much I hate interrupting people—I don't even make phone calls on that basis :P); I don't want to drive a car for fear of a collision; I don't want to drink or consume any party drug for fear of loss of self awareness and control, possible arrest and almost certain bodily harm. I'm simply no longer in favour of putting myself in any position where there's anything substantial to lose anymore.

So, the central issue appears to be fear of a negative outcome. Problem is, I've conquered the problem before, and several occasions on which I did so follow that quotation. I used to be able to deal with that problem; the issue now is that I don't have the self-respect or self-worth to justify doing such things.

Speaking of recent discoveries, I found out a day or two ago that a friend of mine made her blog public again. Turns out she's been reading mine, and she wrote a few entries on topics I spoke about. Some might be pissed off were their friends to read their blogs, but I'm actually quite happy she's reading it. Obviously, I'm pleased someone's reading it at all, that's nice on its own; but it's also good to know that there's someone out there, incidentally someone I know, who I can kinda talk to about things without actually talking to them. One might think "why not just fucking talk to her about the stuff directly?"... I dunno. I feel uncomfortable talking to anyone about these issues because I always feel like I'm being a nuisance. At the same time, if someone needed to talk to me about something, I'd try to help them, and in reality, my friends would do the same for me, so thinking I'd irritate others if I did so is a little ridiculous :P  Even with that said, however, I still don't like to do it, so I keep to myself.

Anyway, this friend is currently trying to lose some weight. That's all well and good, and she seems to be managing it quite well (from what little I've read, anyway), but she keeps calling herself 'fat' and describing her body as if it's some kind of blob with a head on top. I don't see that. I will admit, there's meat on her bones, but I thought that was fucking normal :P  I just cannot see a problem with her size or her figure. Granted, this is coming from the same person who was attracted to her seven months ago, but even though all that sexual tension is gone, that doesn't change my opinion. Thankfully, she realises that the negativity is simply a state of mind, and she tries to counter this mindset.

Thing is, there are heaps of things I could say about myself that would paint an equally negative picture. Friend of mine thinks she's ugly? Bullshit; I'm ugly. Face is alright, but my teeth are all out of whack (sucked my thumb as a kid, hated wearing the corrective gear to fix the problem :P). My hands and wrists remind me of Mr. Burns; I have no muscle whatsoever; and my legs are like those you'd find on starving African children. That's all due to my diet, which is abhorrent and will probably lead to my death at 30-something. I don't have the determination to change that, nor even the will to try any new food. That begs the question: why bother asking a woman on a date? I'm going to eventually have to make it clear that I don't eat like everyone else, which will probably be a huge turn off. There goes any hope of dinner at a restaurant, lunch with friends for introductions, dinner with the parents: that's all instantaneously fucked as soon as the declaration is made. That, coupled with the shallow exterior and opinionated interior, makes for a shitty boyfriend :P

This is all assuming, of course, that I'd ever have the guts to talk to a woman, but why do that when rejection is more-or-less guaranteed not far down the road, if not on the spot? Where am I even going to meet one? I have no social life whatsoever. All the friends I have are from my old school, and I'm hardly ever in contact with them. I really only ever start chatting to two of my friends; a few others occasionally say 'Hi', but it's mainly the same two people, and it's not all that often. I have nothing interesting to talk about, so why bother? I never go anywhere either—no parties, no outings, nothing other than the occasional movie. Where else is there to go, anyway? I don't drink, so why go out to clubs and bars? I'd be wasting my fucking time, not to mention putting me in that atmosphere is the quickest way to make me bored and uncomfortable. Most times I've been with people who are drinking, it ends up sucking major balls. Unfortunately, that's where you meet people these days, so no progress can be made on any front.

It all comes down to perspective: my friend sometimes thinks she's fat, and this can lead her to believe she is viewed as unattractive. I've never believed she's fat, but her self-image is a lot closer to her than my image of her, as would be the case for most people. Likewise, my other friend tried to imply that I wasn't the arsehole I was making myself out to be. I disagreed because I felt more strongly about what I'd done then he did. It's like we don't want to get our hopes up for something that won't happen, at least when we're in this state. This has been getting worse for me, though. I've spent a few mornings lately lying in bed practically bashing myself up in my own head, thinking about this stuff and basically not seeing the point in even getting up. Once I make all the inferences from the data, there ceases to be a point in doing anything, so why get out of bed?

I wish I could just ditch all social desires, friendwise, romance wise, all of it. It's only when I think of those things that I look at myself this way. When I'm preoccupied doing something else, this shit almost never happens. When I'm writing a monologue, a script, a poem, or a story, or when I'm working on a bigger video project, or playing a game, or watching YouTube, I'm focused on everything else. I don't think about other people, only myself. It's indulgent and selfish but it fucking works. All I get then are challenges and ideas: things to beat and ways to beat them. Good ol' problem solving FTW :P

There are heaps of things I seriously want to do, but don't, and even when merely thinking about doing them, it's better than thinking of my social life. I wanna get on stage every week at uni and rant about whatever comes to my mind. I wanna join an improv troupe somewhere and learn how to think on my feet a little better. I wanna write satirical articles for some newspaper and get under people's skin. I wanna take my Nintendo 64 to the mall and play Mario Kart and Super Smash Bros. with complete strangers. I wanna wear a Klu Klux Klan outfit in public and hold up a sign that says "FREE HUGS (COLOUR DOESN'T MATTER)" on one side, and "NEW KKK: MORE ROBES, LESS RACISM!" on the other; then, when I get arrested, I can ask why I'm being judged on what I'm wearing rather than what I'm doing. I wanna go into a high school pretending to be a Department of Education representative to tell the kids on their assembly that school uniform is a psychological control mechanism. I wanna learn martial arts from Jackie Chan, then crash through the roof of Parliament House and beat the shit out of everyone in that motherfucker. I wanna go to an anti-LGBT rally and hold up a sign saying "HOMOPHOBES ARE THE REAL FAGGOTS". I wanna intercept the O'Reilly Factor broadcast on Fox and play 'Wake Up' by Rage Against the Machine instead. I wanna break into a bank and modify the code in the system such that all the bank fees and loan interest go straight to charity (and a little to my own account, for my services :D).

All those things I can do without worrying about friends or food (except the Jackie Chan one... that one's a little outta reach :P).

Most of all, though, I want to be with someone, and love someone. I don't know why, but the urge is always there, and it grows every day. I feel like I've devolved, like I'm back to being a 16 year old boy, simply wondering what it's like to be with someone, how it feels; I just don't know anymore. That's half the fucking problem: I've been there. I've actually been there. I don't just want it; I want it back. I want to explore another relationship. I want to feel for someone so strongly that I can't hold my feelings back anymore. I wanna hold her hands and get lost in her eyes as she looks down in shyness and giggles. I wanna know what it's like to wait for a text I'm expecting from her. I wanna have that one in-joke that only we understand. I wanna watch TV with her and berate whatever shit they've put on. I want her to run up to me from behind and cuddle me, the warmth from her body filling my own. I wanna walk home with her in the rain. I wanna make her feel better when she cries. I wanna have arguments with her just so we can come out stronger and hug tightly when we make up. I wanna see her close her eyes in ecstasy as I feel her up under her shirt. I wanna kiss her all over her naked body before she pushes me onto the bed and steals my idea. I wanna make love with her at her old high school... during school hours, for that extra thrill :P  I wanna be told what turns her on so she can lure me into her fantasy.

I wanna feel so much for her that I can't help but tell her I love her.

That desire always comes back; it never goes away. Problem is, shit that perfect is, like, unattainable, especially with all my flaws :P  It's awesome to write about and fantasise about, sure, but is it gonna actually happen? The image isn't quite that strong :P

I still feel like that little 16 year old boy, but now I'm in the adult's world. I still have that teen angst, I still have that teen curiosity; I even look the fucking part :P  That's even why I don't perform comedy at uni: are a bunch of young adults gonna take some fresh-outta-high-school fucknugget like me seriously? Are they gonna think I can actually humour them? That sounds intimidating. I mean, I've performed in front of adult audiences, and I've performed once in a really adult environment (which was the most fucking fun ever :P), but there's an eerie 'you don't belong there' vibe I get, being the presumptuous cunt I am.

I don't know if a woman will really ever see anything in me, nor do I really think I can do much to make one happy. I don't even really know what love is or what it feels like, not in the romantic sense—I haven't experienced it enough to get any strong grasp. I assume I'll know when I feel it, but I don't know. All I really know is that, with all that's been said and all the conflicting emotion, I still want to find someone I can be with.

Even if it's only for a little while.

Interest: Plummeting Faster than The Stock Market

What happened here? Suddenly, everybody needs to be motivated? 

It's a fairly simple thing: either you wanna do something or you don't.

George Carlin

Looks like I'm part of the latter group: even though I live a life of fiscal, recreational and organisational ease and luxury, it's harder than ever for me to bring myself out of bed, even if I have somewhere to be. I missed a whole day's worth of classes simply because I got up too late and couldn't be bothered going anywhere, the twenty minute walk being just too much for me to handle—first world's a bitch like that :P  It's ridiculous how one negative thought can manifest into ten or fifteen which then combine like the Power Rangers, using their incredible force to obliterate the evil that is my hopes and dreams :P  I used to actually have hopes and dreams… there aren't many left. Everyone around me seems to have concrete goals, or at least goals they can plan for and progress towards in a measurable manner. What are my goals? …don't be miserable… that's the only one I can say for sure. There's heaps of other stuff I'd like to do—that I'd love to do—but that for me doesn't automatically constitute a 'goal'. I've always been told a goal is supposed to be achievable, and that's the definition I take; once I deem such a thing unachievable, it stops being a goal and becomes a pipe dream. So I have lots of pipe dreams… meaning my life's going down the wrong tube.

The most prevalent dream, by law, must always be to do with a girl: whether it be in the traditional sense of 'I have a dream', or the contemporary sense of 'I had a dream last night', it's always a woman. University is a smorgasbord; and with classes as long as two hours, there's always time to ogle at the one I choose to in silence as she looks at her notes or the tutor. It's almost too easy—she sits on the other side of the room, for fuck's sake! Such pleasure in hypothetical futures quickly dissipates, however, when my brain deems this to be an illogical desire, at least when my personality and habitual flaws are brought to light. Any rational person clearly understands that there is no justification in chasing something this unlikely—surely, no woman would want to go out with anyone who looks, talks, eats or thinks like me. I'm ugly, picky, whiny and disgusting: what a catch :P  But, what am I supposed to do? Not look? Not want? Not dream? As much as I'd like to stop dreaming, it's not possible! I'm heterosexual: I'm going to like women whether I want to or not. Being the paradoxical little fuck it is, reason also states that this shit simply isn't reasonable: neither love, nor lust, nor attraction is controllable like that. I want it to be, but it isn't. That's what's really illogical: to expect me to ditch desires inherent in my nature as a human being.

I've had heaps of dreams lately (the kind you have at night fast asleep, even though I'm usually half awake when doing so; kind of like a daydream at night time) that portray me being close with a woman, beyond mere sexual contact. Images of all sorts fill me with warmth, such as me with my arms wrapped around her in bed; or cuddling her with my back against a wall; at a café together, her laughing as we converse; or at a dance of some form where her head rests on my upper chest (the dictionary doesn't really give me the impression that I have a 'bosom' for her head to be resting on :P), my hand slowly stroking the back of her head, fingers flowing through her hair, her eyes closed, using me as her pillow so to speak. The problem is, having not seen the particular girl I'm attracted to for about a month now (due to the break, classes being cancelled/missed, etc.), and only really scratching the surface on said attraction anyway, she's fading from memory; this leads to my brain going back and picking anyone it can to fill the gap. In this state, this limbo of allure, the woman's identity is far from static—sometimes it's an old face, sometimes a new face—but the actions remain fairly consistent.

I think it's clear, from what I infer, that I want a fulfilling relationship, something beyond what I've already had; but my self esteem puts me beneath all that, leading me to believe I cannot possibly achieve that for there is no woman on this Earth willing to put herself in the complimentary position, a position so many seem to have temporarily filled in my mind. Until I know more about the university girl's personality, she will not become a true fixation. To give you an idea of how little I'm running off here, I actually got kind of excited when I heard the word 'Magikarp' come out of her mouth—all because this might mean she likes Pokémon, which means she might like video games, which means we might have something in common beyond our subjects. Slim pickin's, huh—not to mention what a perfect image that is: I practically am Magikarp, splashin' around in a puddle and expecting it to do something other than make a noise :P  In a way, I like this mindset, at least in that it tells me that I want to go off what's on the inside rather than what's on the outside when it comes to true desire for a woman, but it also leaves me with this wayward romantic desire that won't go away.

I really do have to go out and meet people :P

Second to that, of course, come intellectual pursuits: a 'career' (a job'll do just fine, thank you :P) and the development of my mind in terms of culture and booksmarts. Every time I watch a comedy festival, or see some comic on stage in front of a big crowd, and seeing the reaction they get from what they do, I want to be just like them. I want to go in front of rooms full of people and speak my mind like I do here to make people think and to make myself feel like I'm worth something :P  Ever since I experienced the incredible minds of Carlin, Bruce, Hicks (just to name a few), I've wanted to challenge my own mind and that of others on stage just as they did; but once again, cracks in the path quickly form.

First is my great fear of food and travel: two things any performer on the road kinda needs to be fine with :P  Travelling in a car or a train isn't so bad—that I could deal with easy—but boats and planes fuck with me. I get seasick really, really easy; but even if I didn't, the plane is what will take me to different countries (this is 2012 for fuck's sake—why am I going on about boats in the first place :P). When it comes to air travel, both my fear of dying in a plane crash (quite a few of which I've read about recently—thanks, Wikipedia :P) and my discomfort with food (do they serve Doritos on aeroplanes?) both trample the dream. I know that unless I'm in the middle of nowhere in a non-Western nation, there will be a store that sells some bag or box of processed nourishment to keep me somewhat alive... or do I? Surely, if I did know that, I wouldn't be so scared... the level of quality in what my mind classifies as 'knowledge' has done nothing but skyrocketed lately (especially since taking Philosophy :P). Thankfully, I know that I can always think and write no matter where I am, so I take some comfort that I can still get my ideas out there, if only in written form.

The other problem for me has been coming up more and more, not only in watching other comics, but in attending university as well: everything's been said. Every fucking thing, goddamnit! It seems like everyday, I lose an original idea; I might have thought of the idea on my own, but someone else presented it before I did; so even though my idea was of my own conclusions, an audience won't see it that way. What is there to make fun of that hasn't been made fun of? What ground is there that people haven't explored already? What conventions could I challenge? Does anything offend anyone anymore? Does discomfort exist anymore? Or will everyone be perfectly OK with whatever comes out of my mouth? I've said controversial shit before, yeah, but the 'PG-tolerant' world of high school (in what they'd allow anyone to put on stage publicly, anyway) is gone: that was what made stuff I said to those people back then 'controversial' in any sense of the word. I could joke about anything to a pack of uni students and get into no trouble whatsoever, and in recently watching the 2011 Montreal Comedy Festival on TV, politics and social issues were certainly on the agenda (although in a nature far less confronting than that of Carlin, Hicks, etc. :P). I don't want to just say outlandish shit for the sake of attention; I want to provoke thought through the verbal comic instilment of discomfort in what we accept in society. It's not just a matter of saying 'fuck' anymore; it's a matter of stating why we're fucked, how we got fucked, and (perhaps) what we need to do to stop being fucked.

I suppose if I really wanted a challenge, I could always learn Arabic, go to Saudi Arabia to perform, and open with 'Man, what's the deal with fundamentalist Islam? Jeez, it'd be easier for a dog to get a driver's license over here than a woman, 'ey!'

If I truly want to start dabbling in comedy, there's a bar at the uni (named 'The UniBar'... sigh :P) that I could apply to perform at. Looking at their website, there's no 'comedy night' or 'resident comedian' or anything of the sort, so perhaps this'd be something new for them... which is exactly what I fucking want, isn't it? ...why haven't I applied yet... :P  This little opening keeps my comedy dreams alive, and it has done for over a year. I actually originally wanted to go there every week and perform, talking about whatever came to my mind, sometimes testing new bits, sometimes going on improvised rants (a la Williams, Noble or Izzard) about current events and whatnot. I'd love to be someone who could get on stage with nothing in terms of a script and then go on to perform an hour long show, but that takes practice (a lot of practice :P), and I'm just happy to get on stage and perform whenever I can, so it's good to have a place I can do that. My dreams of women, on the other hand, while prevalent, are taken to be ridiculous in nature, because there's nothing concrete there. There's just one girl I have my eye on (out of how many? Selective much? O.O) that I know nothing about—what can my mind do with that? Nothing productive, that's for sure :P

What's really mind boggling, however, is not that I'm thinking this way at the moment, but that I'm still thinking this way after doing so for a year. I wrote an article about a year back describing my self-esteem as a pendulum, swinging back and forth, where thinking of a woman seemed to bring the pendulum down and thinking of comedy (and a somewhat-certain girl interest) brought it back up: this is the exact same thing. The exact same thing. Verbatim. Identical. Different in no way, shape or form! ...how am I still back here!? Surely, I should have learned about this last time and moved on! But no, it's the same old shit, day after day, week after week: the wheels on the bus go round and round, but the bus is still bogged in snow, the same snow it has been for a very long time. Without action, there can be no progress, short of a burst of incredible luck, unreliable at best.

The fact of the matter is: I'm not willing to take risks anymore. I don't want to talk to this girl for fear of embarrassment and rejection; I don't want to ask anyone to let me perform comedy for fear of social contact and disturbing the status quo (in terms of scheduling: you have no idea how much I hate interrupting people—I don't even make phone calls on that basis :P); I don't want to drive a car for fear of a collision; I don't want to drink or consume any party drug for fear of loss of self awareness and control, possible arrest and almost certain bodily harm. I'm simply no longer in favour of putting myself in any position where there's anything substantial to lose anymore... compared to, say, when I was sixteen, telling a room of twenty people the name of the girl I'd liked for two years, or waiting outside the classroom she was in to ask her out; or pulling another girl aside months later to do the same thing, this time successfully, or perhaps kissing her without warning at the lighthouse; or getting on stage alone to tell jokes for the first time; or getting up on assembly without permission to bitch about the fence... what happened? Did the prescription on my balls run out? I mean, I loved the rush I got from doing all those things even though I didn't always get the outcome I wanted, yet I seem to have retracted further into my little shell, unwilling to chase that which I appear to revel in!

It seems that those are my two options: either stay spinning in this little emotional circle, within my shell, waiting for Lady Luck to see me in my self-indulgent peril, for her to be fooled into granting me everything I want; or actually make my own moves, knowing I'm going to fall down, but also knowing that I can get back up. It sounds fucking retarded and cheesy—believe me, I know :P—but that's the way it is. I'm not sure if and when my balls will regrow, but I do believe, rather strongly, that if there's something in my life that I truly want, whether it be to know if some girl is interested in me, or to try and can pull off comic shenanigans like those of my idols—if I truly want something—I'll persevere and go for it eventually. The aforementioned evidence is what leads me to believe this, as procrastinative as it may seem; that's where my faith lies. That said, however... I've almost certainly got shit to do :P

You know what they could do, though? How about reporting on some plane landings, huh? Plane landings: you know, what's supposed to happen when a plane gets to the airport! I think we might think of pilots as a bit more competent if we were actually told that they can do their jobs correctly every once in a while, don't you!?