Is my mind the “real me” at all times?

Watching some videos. Did some reading today. Went down to Hyde Park actually, to go into the student library at the University of Chicago so that I could more effectively do research. Basically because of the massive size of their book collection that is.

So I was going to go out with this girl tonight, a girl who I’m not dating per se but we went on a few dates back in like November or December. In any case, haven’t seen her since before I went to Miami, which was like back in January, and we’re kinda like, whatever at this point. She cancelled on me. And the fact of the matter is, I don’t give a shit. There was actually a moment today where I was kind of dreading meeting up with her tonight, because I am trying to do research and maintain these different writing projects and get my American History site up to #1 on Google at some point in the next year or two, and any kind of social obligations just interfere with that objective. Already I have to work 40 hours a week, or maybe more like 43-44 on a typical week. But then there is the commute to work every day, which is like an extra 1.5 hours per day or about 7 hours per week. And there is the getting ready in the morning. And there is the fact that work is taking up most of the day, which makes it extremely difficult to travel down to the library any time except for the weekends. So now, on a Saturday, it’s like “my day” to do that shit, only if I go out drinking on a Friday night, I will most likely not make it home until one or two in the morning, and then under the influence of alcohol I will pass out for some amount of time and wake up at ten. By the time I shower and get my shit together and get all the way down to Hyde Park after that, the day is halfway over and I’ve squandered my opportunity. Not to mention that after that, I actually have to write the fucking articles, perform website maintenance, locate photographs and edit them, feed myself, and so on. And then I have to do the writing for this site, which is meant to generate a lot of content which can be redirected over to my real project, or at the very least increase the PageRank transfer for search engine purposes. So an hour every evening I am typing about one word per second just to get volume of content here.

My point is, that is a lot of shit to juggle in the air, and then on top of that, I’m trying to keep my ass in shape, which means I play soccer or go running at least a couple of times per week, more in the summer, and that also eats up time. So after doing all of that shit, I have not much time left to socialize and that includes friends who call me up and ask me if i want to do shit, and half the time I lie and make up some excuse that is more socially acceptable than saying I have to go to bed early on a Friday night so that I can take advantage of every possible second at the college library of a University that I graduated from 6 years ago.

My point is that I’m pretty detached when it comes to dealing with girls. I go to dates, or whatever, and my attitude is pretty much like, “Fuck It, I’m gonna be myself, exactly who I am, and make the same stupid jokes I would make with my best friend, and fucking buy them a dinner or whatever the fuck we’re doing, and if that’s no good for this girl then she can fuck off.”

I would say as a modus operandi, that has worked as well as anything. But the truth is that dating never works for me. I have no idea why — or maybe I have some idea why, but the implications are a little cynical and I like to give people the benefit of the doubt. But take getting laid for instance. I’ve been successful at it, more so in the past couple of years, but the point is that it always happens randomly. Like I’ll be out drinking or whatever, and I get to talking with a girl drunk, and we’ll go home and fuck. A couple of times I’ve gotten action after actual dating, but usually not. And the thing about hooking up is that it’s ok and all, but I always wonder when girls will actually start looking at me as someone they would actually go out with in a relationship, and I’m vain. This is what many people would call “shallow”, but I have my pride and also I simply could not be in a long term relationship with someone I’m not attracted to. So maybe I shoot a little high, but as I get older, and I’ll be 27 in a few months, there’s almost a fanatical, burning devotion on my part to “make it” in something. Not to be a fucking lawyer or a pencil pusher who gets bent over. But to do my own shit and make it. This is the point of my site, and why anything that jeapordizes that gives me a strong emotional reaction. This is why I am considering quitting my job this summer, when my lease renews. It is because I need to take a shot at something. Most people settle for too little in life. They are very quick to settle. I have a real shot at something great. I’m fucking smart enough. It is only the lack of an “edge” that has fucked me over my entire life. Nobody gives you shit in the world. I have no connections. My parents literally like barely even have friends, especially my mom. I’m not even sure my mom has got friends. She has “friends” who she talks to and shit when she’s out and around, but I would be surprised if a friend has visited her home or vice versa in the past ten years (unless it’s like a garden party or something with a lot of people).

My point is, I may be induced to do something even more drastic as I get older. I want to be free from the system. I think about people like John Dillinger sometimes. People who just go out and take it. And if anyone says no, fuck them. These are not the thoughts that civil society is built on, but they are true. And it seems like there’s never even really anything to discuss. How does one discuss bank robbery with people? And also, the larger point is, at a certain point I would rather go out in glory than live another fifty years as a scrub. That is the point I’m trying to make. And I define “scrub” very broadly here. MBA’s, lawyers, whoever. They’re all in that category if they don’t have autonomy and whatnot.

So that is the point. I don’t know if quitting everything to work for myself, in the “online publishing” business is smart or not. I don’t have money issues. I guess my point is, how is it dumber to quit when you have $40,000 and no debt, than it is to have a job but you’re $40,000 in debt? It seems like a pretty fair time to take a risk in my situation. And everything I’ve been doing since 2008 has been preparing me for this moment. I could buy a car and drive it around, and maybe more girls would like me. I could get a nicer apartment with good furniture in a nicer part of town, and maybe more girls would like me. As much as people say it’s all about the “confidence” you bring into it, I’m not fully convinced. I know there are guys out there who could get laid if they lived in a cardboard box and were uglier than a yak’s ass, but they have abilities in social manipulation that are beyond my comprehension.

In any case, I’m apathetic and non-invested in regards to my job. Some people who strive to get ahead would just put extra effort in that area, work seventy hours a week, and claw their way into management or something extremely specialized. Maybe that’s what I “should” be doing. And of course, I’m not really going to run out and try to rob a Chase bank and make off with $13,000 on a Saturday afternoon. I’m just saying, I don’t really know where I go from here. I’m not motivated by the trappings of success on a small scale. I either want to go big, or bust out and just say “fuck it”. Perhaps it is my atheism. I believe that you get one shot on this planet, and if you fuck it up or get unlucky then you’re done. I also believe that you don’t give a shit about anything once you’re dead. So that’s that.

Now as far as writing enough to complete my objectives for today. I think my head is in kind of a sluggish place right now. Before I move on to write my history series, which will be about women in the 1920s and how fucked up and crazy they all were, either from overwork or from the dizzying new fashions, it’s just paramount to explore this sluggishness a little bit. Sometimes it just comes. There is no motivation to write, to work, to do anything. It is a feeling in the brain, generated by whatever mix of chemicals happen to be present at that particular moment. Sometimes it even requires me to remind myself that not just my feeling in the moment, but my entire philosophy and world view are temporarily distorted by something ridiculous, like an overabundance of insulin in the system perhaps, or from waking up on the wrong side of the bed. Like the shit above. Like everyone, I’m sure that I’ll eventually accept my lot in life and learn to deal with it, and stop deluding myself that I deserve more from the world. It’s just that until that moment comes, I am sometimes like a horse within a stable, prone to wild tendencies. The only way to mellow these tendencies out are with age and training. This time last year, I was pretty satisfied with my job. In fact, I was pretty satisfied in October and November even. I felt like there was good work-life balance and that I was learning things. It’s really only recently, when it has started to seem like this job is getting in the way of a project that is urgent, time-sensitive, and very dear to my heart, that I have started to resent it. I resent the slow days the most, when I am sitting around with a limited amount to do, and I know I could be doing something much more enhancing of my life in general.

So I’m sure tomorrow the sluggishness will beat a retreat. I will post my five articles or whatever about women in the 1920s. I will see a movie or do something to reward myself and to relax before the onslaught of the following five days comes at me. And pretty soon, it will be Friday March 9 and I can go back to throwing myself into my real, chosen work.

That is that. This isn’t exactly 3,600 words but I also went way over the objective yesterday, so this brings it back into balance.


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