1 January 2015

I have twice sent out electronic messages-in-a-bottle, and twice have gone unanswered.

The first time I considered it a one-off. The second time I began to wonder if there was a bigger pattern. It was cowirdace that led me to reach out in this way, but then again even such a small step took great courage for me. Agoraphobia, worse than you can probably guess, has been the sickness of my lifetime. No particular event caused it, so far as I can recall. It has just always been my condition.

From my earliest childhood I have been scared shitless of everyone around me, been “scared of my own shadow” as GenXers would refer to it. I have no excuse for this. I was not abused or materially neglected, just excieedingly shy. I’ve always been of medium hight and build, nothing remarkable either vertically or horizontally, neither super-athletic nor particularly weak.

Girls have usually liked me, at least until they get to know me. Truth is, I am excidningly bookish, and provide little of the excitement or thrills so many of my would-be-companions are looking for. I’ve soared emotional highs and lows that they can scarcely imagine, but this does little to induce a dopamine release or an addreneline rush. I know more about history, philosophy, politics, theology, and literature than anyone most of them have ever met, but this seems to offer little. I am harder working than just about anyone I know, but care little for material gain. In short, I am very lonely.

Fool me once, shame on you, fool me twice, shame on me. I have wasted time on things that matter, and have not pursuid frivolous things. I try to be truly alive—and maybe this is my mistake.

10 January 2015

Today was a great day—I accomplished nothing! I successfully sat and my desk and pretended to work for eight hours. It was convincing bullshit, if I may say so myself – an Oscar-worthy performace (afterall, most acting in Hollywood is shit too).

Like George Costanza, I look like I’m the first one to get to the office in the morning, and the last one to leave it at night. In truth, I’m just putting on appearances so no one pays attention to me too closely. I hate being the center of attention.

It seems that slackers and those with a high diversity score often get promoted fastest. I have pratically zero of the latter, so we’ll see how far I can get with the former. Perhaps I can convert to Islam, or claim to be gay, or both? No, I doubt I could actually succeed at that—my acting is good, but not that good (yet). Try though I might, I still can’t make myself care about bullshit or to enthusiastically embrace sin. Perhaps I just need more practice.

15 January 2015

Progress! I successfully held a barroom conversation using nothing but pop-culture clichés and sports statistics. It was exhausting, but the sense of narcassitic self-worth seems to be worth it.

21 January 2015

Finally forced myself to download one of those “dating” apps today. Haven’t had the courage to use it yet, but it’s still progress regardless. I just keep focusing on nothing, it seems to be doing the trick.

Nobody who uses these apps seems to actually be happy, but if the majority is doing something it must be a good idea. Surely they know something I don’t? It just stands to reason. Afterall, reason can only lead one to truth, it can’t be used to rationalize or justify self-destructive behavior. The average person is too smart for that.

29 January 2015

Well, I finally did it. I finally had a “date” using one of those swipe-left/swipe-right apps. It wasn’t the best I ever had, but I had no expectations it would be. If I may be honest, and I think I can be here, who will ever know? The high of successful game very quickly gave rise to a crash of depression. I think I just don’t have enough experience yet. Surely the hundreds of men outlining strategies and comparing notes online can’t be experiencing this too.

I just need to lower my standards—to focus on quanitity rather than quality. If the consumer mentality succeeded in conquering all of Western culture, surely it will conquer my emotions too. I just need to give it time, to get more notches, to feed the beast. Then all will be well.

4 March 2015

My experiment seems to be working. I’m still not happy, but at least I’m mostly numb. Surely this is better than pain and solitude?

I’ve had a blonde, a brunette, and (believe it or not) a good-looking red-head in the past month. I’ve also had my first Latina, the first in my group of friends to do so. This makes me the head of the pack, yes? My senses just don’t seem as dulled as theirs are though, so I clearly still have work to do.

I don’t have enough money to become an alcoholic. Otherwise, this would seem like the logical next step. I think I’ll just over-indulge in coffee and energy drinks instead; stay-awake for eighteen hours a day or more. I never want to miss anything again, I might start caring about real-life otherwise.

1 April 2015

I quit my job today. If most of my neighbors can simply live off welfare, why shouldn’t I? They claim entitlement on the basis of racial suppression, I cliam it on historical anti-Irish sentiment. If my great-grandparents suffered unjustly, doesn’t that mean I should benefit from it?

I also moved out of my own place and am now living with one of my previous victories—the brunette mentioned before. She still works, but why should that bother me? She’ll learn to play the system eventually. I don’t expect much from her, the whole “bring me a sandwich thing” doesn’t work when all we can afford is Ramen and Trader Joe’s pasta, but the near-daily sex is enough to make one content.

The fact that I still feel moderately guilty about my lifestyle tells me I’m not quite the modern man yet. But I’ll get there, I’m confident I’ll get there.

14 April 2015

Today was a bad day—I remembered someone I care about. I reactivated my old Facebook account, out of morbid curiosity about how bad my old classmates must have turned out more than anything else, and was confronted by a picuture of a girl that used to like. Fucking algorithims.

I didn’t consciously choose to send the message, but my drunk brain (I forgot to mention, I finally achieved alcoholism!) typed it out for me. It was a good-natured message, just commenting on her status of getting a new job and wishing her well, “make the most out of this” yada, yada, et cetera. I was hoping a conversation would ensue, but it never did. Wise decision on her part.

I need to do nothing put play videogames and fornicate with the brunetter for a day or two, I think I came too close to my old self today.

21 April 2015

More bad news, I ran into an old friend today. He seemed shocked by my new-found freedom, and wanted to talk for a while. The poor bastard still has hope in life, he hasn’t transcended slave morality like me. I am dirty, I am sick, my dick hurts, and I think there’s something wrong with my liver—doesn’t he see how oppressed he is!

1 May 2015

The dreams have started again. Dreams about what I could have been—not married yet but with a loving girl and a decent job. I would’ve been in debt, but then again so is everyone else. Money is just 1s and 0s on a server somewhere, as imaginary as my sense of self-worth. O Lord how wicked I am!

But at least I am free. Never doubt the lengths to which one will go to demonstrate personal freedom. Self-destructive behavior is proof of free will.

14 May 2015

My friend offered to let me stay in the extra bedroom at his home, and I think I may take him up on the offer.

1 July 2015

Sober for the whole day today—for the first time in a long time.

17 July 2015

Picked up a full-time office job. Don’t want to discuss it.

1 September 2015

Went to confession.

1 January 2016

Found my old notes and don’t quite know how to react to them. For some reason, I feel compelled to quote the apostle John:

3 Now you are clean, by reason of the word which I have spoken to you.

4 Abide in me: and I in you. As the branch cannot bear fruit of itself, unless it abide in the vine, so neither can you, unless you abide in me.

5 I am the vine: you the branches. He that abideth in me, and I in him, the same beareth much fruit: for without me you can do nothing.

6 If any one abide not in me, he shall be cast forth as a branch and shall wither: and they shall gather him up and cast him into the fire: and he burneth.

7 If you abide in me and my words abide in you, you shall ask whatever you will: and it shall be done unto you.

8 In this is my Father glorified: that you bring forth very much fruit and become my disciples.

9 As the Father hath loved me, I also have loved you. Abide in my love.

10 If you keep my commandments, you shall abide in my love: as I also have kept my Father’s commandments and do abide in his love.


11 These things I have spoken to you, that my joy may be in you, and your joy may be filled.