Social Distortion
I don't have anything else to say. Isn't this strange? Bizarre? What has happened to my brain?
Despite any personal growth I've experienced it still takes the action of someone I've deemed "hot" asking me out to put my restlesness at ease. That coupled with the action of another someone I've deemed "hot" sending me daily emails have obliterated my sensation of solitude.
Wouldn't we all like to move beyond the point of needing other people to feel special? I would. Sometimes I think I have.
Then I toil in the mire of self-deprication and self-loathing, and self-pity (my inner fat-girl), until I receive some attention -- from a guy -- that makes me feel pretty, smart, funny, sexy, skilled, whatever, and all of a sudden I'm giggling at the soft swirls of leaves at the running-board of the Suburban as I drive through the neighborhood.
I have women friends who love me intensely, and family, too, for that matter, but I'm retarded and their affection doesn't lift me the way a man's can.
Listen to me! I have a goddam date, not a wedding proposal. I get frequent emails, not love letters.
I like being on a hot boy's mind.
But do I really like myself better for being on a hot boy's mind?
And why do I still call them boys?
Their balls have dropped (obviously).
They're intelligent (they're thinking of me).
They're tall (if I think they're hot).
They grow facial hair (if I think they're hot).
I guess I can call them men, now.
Back to my rhetoric: do I like myself better for being on a hot *man's* mind?
Today I will answer that with,
"No; it just proves that all the things I like about myself are true."
If I'm full of shit it will come to light soon enough.
