I’m not here to bitch, but at my age, life sort of blows in so many ways. Every day it’s another indignity. And next year will be worse. The year after that, even worse than that. All you can do is make the best out of a bad situation.
Sure if you have friends of loved ones, it can be real nice. Most of the people you meet day to day, whether they know you or not, are sort of shits. All women of most ages are pretty damn cold. That’s if they don’t openly hate me. A lot of young men in their 20’s are awful damn cold or shitty. Older men, 35+, are usually pretty damn nice. I meet males that age I have never talked to much in my life before…and…guess what? They’re my best friends!
Some women my age are pretty nice, but a lot of them look like shit. Anyone who mostly speaks Spanish is probably pretty cool.
Kids? Just forget it. I wave to them and smile and they don’t even wave back.
I dropped someone off at the homeless shelter the other and drove by the junior high. It was dark. I didn’t want to talk to girls, so I saw three boys. I asked them what the crowd was for, if there had been a game. They told me yes, there had been a basketball game. But one kid acted like there was something terribly wrong with talking to them.
Obviously I was a homosexual child molester who was going to molest their pubescent asses. Don’t mind that I’m not even gay and I don’t fuck guys. It’s still true anyway.
Young women. Ha ha. I’m not even allowed to look at them, much less talk to them. If I smile or wave to them, I get a cold stare of hate back. If I say hi or hello, they act like they’re going to call the police. They’re not all like this, but a lot of them are. Like way too many.
Most of the conversations I try to have with women under age 50 fall flat on their face in some way or another, even if it’s not obvious. Subtly, yeah, it’s true.
I just don’t want to believe you. You talking to someone, right? You want to think this person likes you or this person hates you? I’m anti-paranoid, so interpret most stuff as this person likes me. Which means I overlook a lot of stuff that a paranoid might pick up on. Except it’s dead on true.
Life doesn’t really get older, guys. Have fun when you are young and other humans are still willing to talk to, make friends with you, and date you. Someday if you are lucky you will be my age. Congrats but steel yourself.
I’m not here to bitch but if you’re life is shitty, go ahead and bitch away. If you’re life’s not that shitty, maybe tone it down.
This is it. This is life, boys. And every year from now on, it will just get worse and worse. As they say on the incel boards (and those guys are damned right about a million things), the Age Pill is the hardest pill of all to swallow.
I try to eke some happiness out of life so I don’t say fuck it all and buy it.
See that mixed drink over there next to my computer. That glass is your friend, Bob.
Fuck the world anyway. It’s been my motto my whole adulthood anyway, happy and sad, sunny or the darkest night. Fuck the world. Take that attitude, put it in your head and walk around with it for a day.
Don’t let it get you down. If you think about the implications of it, just laugh. Laugh every time something shitty happens to you. Laugh even harder when something good happens to you. But quit caring. That’s the secret, right there, at your damned fingerprints. All you have to do is take that idea and put it right snug in your head. Don’t worry, it’s a nice fit.
Anyway if you want to try this mind-wear on for a day or so, let me know how it goes. If you’ve already been wearing this mind garment for a long time, congratulations.
Try to have some fun. Do fun things. Do fun things that you like. Don’t do, as in procrastinate, shitty things that are no fun. You do fun things all day and the rest of your life doesn’t mean shit.
Party amidst the ruins.
The Titanic is going down real slow, and you’re on board with everyone else. You have a drink in one hand and a joint in the other. There’s a gorgeous woman on top of your hard cock, bouncing up and down and moaning. You’ll be dead in five minutes, but it doesn’t matter because you’ll die happy.
Which, in case you wish to know, is another prime goal in life. You can’t usually die an interesting death. That’s the ulitmate goal, the home run. But if you can’t, at least die with a smile. That’s right. One of the goals in life is to die with a smile. And your middle finger in the air, flipping off God for this last indignity.