So what reason do I find to hate myself today? Well as with all my most potent shit-piphanies it relates to a gathering of people, a little lust, and how I let myself down yet again. Office christmas party 2009: nice dinner, few drinks, and then............................a club. My achilles heel. Or rather another of my achilles heels.
I feel out of place in clubs (or trendy bars). Like Fortycoats at a nudist shindig. I just can't cut it. So I say goodbye to everyone in my mousey little sorry to be a bore way. They object half-heartedly, as if my leaving will in any way reduce the awesomeness of their night. I slump out with my tail between my legs and walk the rainy streets of Dublin wallowing in self-pity.
It doesn't help that I'm irrationaly infatuated with a woman I work with who was at the party. Who asked me why I was leaving. Who I told "it's just not my thing". Who nodded knowingly as if she was completely unsurprised and didn't give a fuck either way. Who's seeing a toned, tall, outgoing, man; essentially the exact opposite of me. Who I try to take my mind off of but can't. Who makes me feel so bad about myself.
I've always resisted the urge to cut myself. It seemed puerile. I'm not a rebellious emo-teen after all. Yet I have a barely containable desire to scar myself. I want to slice into my face a reminder of how I've ruined my own life.
Again, I'll leave it to my dreams to sort out. I'll sleep and let my mind do it's thing. I'll have strange melancholic dreams as my brain processes the information of the evening. Stores. Deletes. Overwrites. Maybe I'll dream I'm a hero. Maybe I'll get the girl. Hopefully I'll awake as always with just enough hope and apathy to get out of bed again. Until the next time.
0 comments:
Post a Comment