The Pursuit of Happiness in Ultimate Randomness

  • July 11, 2014, 1:38 a.m.
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Hope everyone had a wonderful 4th of July weekend and a following week. This entry is bound to be perfect for this book as I foresee it jumping around from place to place, but with that one overarching theme, namely the title of this entry. Sure, I am still pessimistic about achieving happiness ever, but there is a measure of hypothetical involved. For instance, I wondered today about the common advice that most people give to a person in my situation, that being that if I want someone else to be happy with me, then I must be happy with myself first. Here's the problem with that: if I was capable of making myself happy, what would I need anyone else for? If I was perfectly happy the way I am, why would I want to risk that happiness on having other people in my life? The more I step back and really look at people here in 2014, the more I see a society who's mantra is the same as the late wrestler Eddie Guerrero: Lie, Cheat, Steal. This bit is not meant to offend anyone and it doesn't apply to anyone in particular...mostly. But it feels like everyday I see another situation or read another story of cheating, heartbreak, lying, stealing some other person's boyfriend/girlfriend/husband/wife. So I thought to myself that if I really was capable of making myself happy, why in God's name would I want to risk that for these people? And yes, I know not everybody is like that, but unfortunately it is a crap shoot with people nowadays. There is almost no way to tell what people will do, or if you will be with someone who thinks they see something better and are willing to bet it all on that. Loyalty is a foreign concept to most people. And why? Because we are told that we need to make ourselves happy and not depend on other people to do that. We must put ourselves first. We have to have our own agendas to follow. But tell me, if we all have our own agendas and must put ourselves first at all times, why are we surprised that marriages, or any relationships, fail to last more than a few years at most? Seems to me that failure of relationships is the natural progression of the modern way of thinking.

That is all speculation of course. What is true is that I am alone and that shows no signs of ever changing. A small part of me still cares, but that part gets smaller by the day. If the above wasn't a clue, even if an opportunity to date or make new friends presented itself, I am alot more likely to stay in my room, or apartment in the future, away from people as much as possible. It seems that the only time I feel any sort of peace is away from people. And I have to wonder why that is. Was I just built differently? Did the course of events in my life make this outcome inevitable? I don't know. The more I think about it, it comes down to nature vs. nurture, which anyone who truly thinks about it will tell you, it is a little of both. I am sure it took the perfect combination of circumstances along with some genetics to make me the way I am. Whatever the case may be, this is me. This is how grumpy, bitter old men are born, though I don't see me getting out of my 40's with my diet and exercise routine. I always thought that it would be a shame if a guy like me were to become so embittered that I couldn't fall in love again, but honestly, does anyone care? I mean, it's like the question about the tree falling in the forest making a sound. If there are no women interested in me, is anyone really going to care if I give up on relationships? They might think it a shame, but is anyone going to care so much as to really try to convince me otherwise by any means necessary. Maybe my dad. He has been the most persistent in trying to make me leave the house to do something other than go to work. The sad thing is that he will fail. Unfortunately, as well as we get along and as much as I love my dad, parental guidance isn't going to be what makes me shake this off. There really is only one possibility and that is there being some women who takes an interest in me who I am attracted to making the effort. But that is really asking too much. I know that. It is not someone else's job to make me happy. So here I am and here I will most likely stay. Bitter, disenchanted, pessimistic me. Oh well.


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