Thursday, October 11, 2007

The Back of My Mind

I don’t really have anything to say tonight. Nothing specific. Just a general dissatisfaction. So stop reading now if you don’t want to hear my moaning. It’s not for you anyway. Haven’t you figured that out yet?

I don't have any friends. I don't mean friendly acquaintances. I've got lots of those. I mean something meaningful. Usually I'm okay with that. I've got outlets for intellectual energy. But I was thinking that there's nothing to hone myself on. I'm like a paranoid fanatic, developing my intricate arguments in solitude, with no other voice to point out flaws in my reasoning.

It's the same thing with rolling. I'm not getting enough. I rolled a lot today, and it's not enough. I sit around for 45 minutes afterwards, hoping someone is still looking to roll, but it never happens. There I am, stretching and trying to chase away the ache, listening to the unbelievable conversation going on, and I'm just coming aware of how useless it all is.

I'm at the point were I'm thinking of just arguing. I never argue. Pointless. But I don't get much chance to actually exercise my ego. You think you've seen it. You haven't. It's always ugly, the chattering, but these guys don't mind being ugly. There's one fella who is unrelentingly negative. I can't say that I've noticed two consecutive sentences that don't contain something nasty. If I were to step into my time machine and go back 25 years, I'd be really comfortable on the attack. I'd be a bit rusty at first, but I'm thinking of doing it. Being cheap and petty, the way the conversation almost always goes.

But I'm insecure. Not about myself. I'm insecure because I've been betrayed and excluded too often. I'm too much the outsider. I'm too raw, and my social skills are too primitive. I say what I mean and there's no taking it back. That makes enemies. I don't want any more enemies. Cross some lines, you can't get back. I don't trust them to not hate me.

What, you think I"m wrong? I should take the high road? I agree. I should. Just like rolling has rules, so does conversation. But I don't see many rules in their conversation. We're supposed to play games by the rules. If the rules are to be low and vulgar, can't I do that?

No. I always regret it when I try to match that tone. I suppose I could callus myself. People get inured to the vulgar images of pornography, after all. I could enter into this verbal porn and get really good at it. Again. Self-disgust? Can it be much worse than what I'm feeling now? Disgust with others, and impatience?

Yes. Much worse. There are a lot of things about myself that I respect. I don't work at it, but I imagine I have a sort of dignity. The dignity that comes from self-control. I don't like being passionate. I do like the fact that I contain it.

Problem is, there is virtually nothing of substance that's ever said. Nothing to argue about. These are not serious people. No insult meant. Yet. A real argument? A debate? I'd absolutely love it. Absolutely. With whom? The guys I roll with? I don't get to roll enough. How could I expect anything different about anything else?

Do you suppose it might be time I look elsewhere?

No matter where some people go, they don't belong. I don't do it on purpose.


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