Another Sex Blog

I’ve often described myself as a cynical optimist. Meaning I always expect everything to work out, but it never does.

I’m SO tired of being an optimist. Up until, and sometimes even past, the last second, I expect things to turn around and turn out the way I wanted. It hurts a lot for that not to happen. Over and over again and again.

I don’t want to have anything to do with other humans anymore. Other than, obviously, what is necessary to continue living. So work relationships, only within work and not socially, are necessary. Family is, too, if you’re aware of my living situation. And I eat out a lot, so basic decency to those who work in the service professions is a necessity, too. Other than that, bye bye.

I can’t handle being mediocre. It’s too complicated to explain, but I just had an epiphany tonight that I really am no different from the masses. Duh. I realize that probably sounds SO arrogant to anyone reading this. It’s true, though. I actually, deep down, believed that I was somehow special. The Lake Wobegon effect. I can’t deal with the fact that I’m not spectacular in looks or smarts or personality. I’m not really any different from the “psycho” chicks that I’ve made fun of all my life. Even if only in my head.

I suppose that even writing this blog post is kind of an example of my cynical optimism. I expect it to make everything alright, but I really really know that it won’t.

I wish I could explain this better.

I need to give up. So, I am.

Good bye.