Aftermath

Being along with your own thoughts can be a scary thing, especially when they start speaking truths you damn sure weren't prepared for.

Thanks are due to all who handed out some constructive words and opinions on my last post. I've had some sobering moments as of late in the aftermath of that post, and I'm starting to see what kind of person I really am towards women and it's embarrassing and saddens me.

99 percent of the time, I fail to think of women as humans with emotions, feelings, lives, thoughts, etc. I feel bad because I wasn't raised that way. I could blame it on single motherhood, woman can't raise a boy to be a man and all that jazz. But my mom did teach me, among many of her great lessons, to treat people how you want to be treated. Somehow in my social exile and reliance on technology, I lost my way in that sense.

I really haven't spent much time out in my life other than work and the occasional sojourn, my true and honest time around women in person is almost non-existent. So I guess I let TV, music and yes, adult entertainment, guide my perception of women and it really has gotten out of hand.

I'm really afraid of this loner mentality I've enveloped myself in because I know now that it's not completely women, although I have come across some bad ones. I'm fully aware that my inability to step outside of my comfort zone and at least try to interact with women in person has led to this crappy attitude and that I really don't deserve any sort of time from any woman right now.

Because I'm bored waiting for Game Four of the World Series...

I'm asking all women who read my blog (and tell your friends so they can come respond and help) to help me figure out y'all to SOME degree. Do you or do you not sleep with a guy you like without making jump through hoops of fire? I'm so serious about this because from about age 16 til now, I've noticed the few women that have allegedly "liked" me have almost no interest in having sex with me. Recently as this week, I had a girl say she liked me, gave me compliments (which I'm starting to think was bs because no woman has ever seen anything good in me) then when she talked about hanging out or coming to visit, she said it would take three or four visits for something physical to occur. Uh...huh?

I'm sorry, but from what I've seen and heard and lived with in my college days, it didn't take three or four dates/hangouts/whatever for two consenting adults to get physical. Maybe my expectations are shot or my thought process is wrong, but if you like a person, you'll do something with them, period. My feeling is women don't want to have anything physical to do with me because of my looks and my weight, which means they really don't like me. I've seen numerous guys who have women liking them whenever, wherever.

So help me out: Am I wrong for thinking that women don't like me because they won't have sex with me? Or am I right and discovering the painful truth that women just hate me through and through? Floor's yours. Oh, and by the way, anonymous comments will be deleted unless they have some merit :)

Now normally I don't do this, but uh...

If I'm quoting R. Kelly, then it must be an important matter. Well not really, but I would like to dissect an annoying trend that has taken place in the comments section since February.  That month I made a post about the girl who has affected my perception of women and friendships with them for about 10 years when the first attack was launched.

"You should get counseling. Immediately."

I was already annoyed from the get because that's an insult to me. Always has been, always will be, don't care what anybody thinks about it. But I was able to ignore it.

Another deep post in April yielded another disrespectful comment:

"Way too depressing."

This post in May: "Go and get counseling!"

I noticed the trend in June and posted about it, but was met with derision. Same deal a month later. 

I disabled anonymous comments after that, but enabled them again because I always feel like somebody who doesn't have Blogger, Wordpress or anything of the sort still might want to leave a positive comment or add on to what I write about. And then we get to the previous post.

"You're sick. Please get help."

So that's at least six instances where someone has felt the need to add to the problem rather than be part of the solution. And thanks to that handy dandy blog tracker on the side, I've noticed that this yellow ball-less internet personality comes from Mt. Laurel, NJ and New York City by way of Ten95 or my friend T-Dot's page. And I know T-Dot is a stand up woman and she'd never say anything to me anonymously that she couldn't or wouldn't say to me directly. So to the clown in the Metro NY area who keeps leaving corny comments - get a life. While I never claimed to be the most perfect or right individual walking the planet, at least I am trying. Comments full of shade like the ones your throwing don't help. And yes I put a lot out there, but at the same time, I have a name and a picture attached to mine. What's your excuse?

Jekyll/Hyde Blues

I used to be such a sweet, sweet thing

Until they got a hold of me...

I opened doors for little old ladies,

I helped the blind to see...

Transitions rarely happen overnight. Good ones force you to be patient and hope that it thoroughly completes itself and at the right time. Bad ones usually are the ones that move the fastest, but you still have time to stop it if necessary. 

Needless to say I failed to stop my transition, to quote Spongebob Squarepants, "from good noodle to bad egg." Not as an overall detriment to society by any means, but my social graces are non-existent and the situation with women seem to get worse instead of better. 

I got no friends 'cause they read the papers

They can't be seen with me

And I'm gettin' real shot down

And I'm feelin' mean...

There was a time when the words used to describe me were "respectful," "polite," "well-mannered," "well-behaved" and probably the one word I hated to be describe as maybe even more than my weight, "sweet." I was over being sweet by the middle of my second year at Del State. I had learned in two semesters of living on campus that women weren't in the market for "sweet" guys.  There, I said it. The last time I classified myself as a nice guy, LeBron James didn't have his Hummer, there was no Iraq war and Jay's Second Blueprint banged all over campus. 

No more Mr. Nice Guy

No more Mr. Squeaky Clean

No more Mr. Nice Guy

They say he's sick, obscene...

I figured that in order to at least get some positive attention, I shouldn't ask a girl how she's doing, shouldn't show too much emotion (HA! That didn't work out very well) and I shouldn't try to be interested in them because they almost thrive on being ignored. Somewhere along the way when that didn't work out, bitterness set in, and I found myself dogging women every chance and place I had room to do so. Forget my desires and wants, my ability to even carry on a decent conversation with a woman is null and void.

But what's crazy is, when I think about when I was a young and impressionable sort, one who thought of women as all being queens and being better than me and that I'd be eternally grateful to be a small part of their world, I gag. I'm embarrassed that I was such a brown-noser. Maybe that part in the "Keep ya head up" vid when Pac is admonishing his partners for catcalling Jada Pinkett Smith went to my head, who knows? But I definitely didn't want to turn out like this. Now as long as I'm allowed to breathe, I'm sure I can change, but this transition is going to take a long time to occur. I just hope it's not too late.

Admission

I get mad.

I get pissed off.

I'm offended.

I feel disrespected.

I cuss them out.

I threaten them.

I wish ill upon them.

All because they won't have sex with me. I hate women because I love sex, and they aren't willing. I'm a misogynist. I wish I wasn't.

One Step Forward, 1000 Steps Back....

I can't keep women in my life. My walking partner/FWB is now a distant memory after a particularly ugly fight (don't worry, my last name ain't Brown, no violence) a week ago that put me right back at Square One as far as the ongoing struggle with women goes. Instead of giving up on my walking because I was now alone again, I just decided to go back to what I did last fall. First thing in the morning, stretch, 10 laps, stretch again, but this time with the sit-ups after, THEN get my work day started. It's worked out well so far this week, however I can't help but feel guilt and shame over my latest troubles.

I really don't see things getting better as far as dealing with the fairer sex goes. I won't even go into detail about how this recent situation went from sugar to... you get the picture. I just always go back to my favorite saying in reference to these problems: "I can't win for losing." It just seems like women do not like me in the least, whether it's my physical appearance or something else, I always seem to get shot down. Slowly but surely, my physique is changing, especially in areas that really were an eyesore to me, so if I keep with this recent routine (and I plan on doing my best to keep it up), I'll be to where I want to be in terms of body shape and weight.

But what if I get there and nothing changes? It'll feel like I've done all this work for nothing, which is a bad thought anyway. I should be doing this for my health. And the thing is, I only feel bad about my weight when women mention it or just flat out ignore me - I always think that's the reason I have no luck. And considering my aversion to social events, I've tried every internet site known to man to meet women. That's all I've been trying for the last decade, and it still hasn't worked. People keep telling me to go outside and meet women, but anywhere I go, be it for work or running errands, women look at me with disgust or derision. Stop me if you've heard that before - I'm sure you have.

But what can you do when the fear of being ridiculed and a legitimate discomfort with public places and in-person social situations are stronger than the allure of any "good time" a square like myself can I have? I don't drink or smoke. I dance my ass off at home, but that's because nobody can see me. I'm very uncomfortable in crowds because I always think somebody's talking about me or looking for a way to make a joke out of me. Randomly approaching women? Forget it. I guess maybe I should just give it up and accept my life as a troll. It's a lot easier than getting my hopes up every once in a while.

RIP Nikki Harris

In this hi-tech era of social networking and making contact with other humans with your fingertips, it's still a genuine shock to your system to know that you are indeed talking to someone else miles away, that you've never met and may never meet, but it's still interaction. Some of it bad, some of it good, and in rare instances, an extraordinary inspiration.

On a blog entry of mine not quite a year ago, there was this comment that in the middle of the soft approach of my usual readers, one comment, the only time this person would comment, showed compassion for my plight, but a well-meaning kick in the ass to try and get me going:

ohmigod. this has to be the most honest entry i've read in i don't know how long. you are extremely courageous to put that out there.

everyone is afraid of something, luv. that's what makes us human. the difference is that for every person paralyzed by the fear, there is someone who uses that fear as a catalyst for movement.

there are all kinds of big cats out there in fulfilling relationships. why? cuz they value themselves and that's appealing to women.

don't see your size or your lack of relationship experience as something deterring you from happiness. see them as the great things you bring to the table, cuz that's what they really are.

just focus on you and loving yourself. women see through a cat with no confidence who engage in self-loathing and we run for the hills.

meanwhile, there was a yahoo article the other day about the fattest guy in the world marrying his girlfriend.

in other words, love is there for everyone, but it has to begin with self.

That comment was left by Nikki "Indigo" Harris, who passed away last Sunday due to complications from a rare autoimmune disease. I was so taken with her comment that I IMEEJATELY hustled over to her blog to see what she was talking about...and I laughed my ass off for what seemed like hours, reading her thoughts on everything from gaydar to Suge Knight. I also was compelled to think and feel reading her blogs about her dating experiences and such. I never met her and we never interacted much aside from me commenting on her blog every once in a while, but of course hindsight being 20/20, I wish I would've known her like most of the blogosphere knew her.

It sucks that most times the people with so much to offer, so much going for them, people who are really great to know get taken from us so early. Yet by all the accounts of the blog tributes I read, Nikki was Nikki right up until she passed, and I'm sure she's still being Nikki up there.

everyone is afraid of something, luv. that's what makes us human. the difference is that for every person paralyzed by the fear, there is someone who uses that fear as a catalyst for movement.

Right on, Nikki. God Bless You.