Tuesday, July 19, 2005

Damaged Goods

It has come to my attention over the last week or so that I am not quite myself, with this being brought to a head this evening when one of my housemates expressed that they thought I've been this way for a long time. Truth is, I'd sensed it myself as well: only yesterday I was chatting with a good friend I hadn't seen for a long time and it felt as though, well, I didn't have anything to say. I feel as though people have stories to tell, conversations to indulge in, concerning all manor of things, whereas I seem to be unable to be drawn into these situations. The responses I make are really dull, but conversly when I try to make a conversation its always about something really dull. In short, it seems lately as though if I can't make some strange quip in relation to a film, tv show or band, then I can't hold a conversation at all. Thus, if it's not the Daleks then I'm not good. Otherwise, if people are talking about something serious (i.e. politics), I seem to have a nasty knack of saying something completely abstract that subsequently destroys the conversation.

What worries me the most is that one day I'm gonna turn around and realise that, contray to the old adage that "No man is an island", I've done a bloody good job in becoming one. I'll be the guy who lives on his own and gets the occasional visitor from x and their partner, who politely inform you about the wonderful time(s) they're having, and when asked the question of "So what have you been up to?", I'll just reply with, "Oh you know. This and that", which actually means nothing because I'm so isolated the only company I have is four walls and myself.

More alarming to me is the way that I can't seem to be able to strike up a conversation with anyone. If people come up to me and start talking then I'm fine. Overtly pleasent, I suspect. But for me to go and talk to someone? Woah, that's another cup of tea! I just don't know what to say to people. With blokes, I know you're gonna get some quippy put-down as a reply and I'm not quick witted enough to think of anything suitable as a retort. Couple in the fact that my sense of humour doesn't revolve around being mysoginistic and talking about sex, and we hit upon part of the problem. Whereas with women? Don't even go there. You see, I've come to the realistaion that, after many years of attempting to enter in the dating game, I'm really not attractive to the opposite sex. Granted, I mean, who really wants to date a weedy Whovian with mild obssesive-compulsive disorder? This then hits upon other problems I have if, and only if, I meet someone I like: I come across as rather intense. This is due to the fact that I rationalise things far too much and if I meet someone I like, I don't see the point in all this Dancing around the Houses. I just tend to think that life is short enough, and the moments that people share can be rather brief, so what's the point in wasting these moments? Now, this could be a direct result of the problems I've had with dating in the past, namely that every girl I seem to be interested in goes off with someone else. Hence, another reason why I think I'm dull. Moreover, if, and again if, I do manage to talk to someone I can come across as rather smug and cheesy. This is because I don't know what to say to keep conversations going.

Consequently, we move on to another reason why I'm feeling pretty low at the moment: all I seem to think about is myself. I've lost contact with so many people, probably due to being miserable, and spent so much time with myself as of late that the only person I really think about is me. Now by admission, I'm not a great fan of my own company, so you can imagine the downward spirals that entail. I keep thinking, no hoping, that this will end; that someone will smash into my life and wake me up. Show me a few things I've never seen before, help me feel a few things I've not felt before, or for a long time at least, and at the end of the day, help me feel a bit more human. The way things are at the present, I can only see one end result: a big wooden box in about 40 years or so, and if that's all that's ahead, then why not simply accelerate the process? After all, I may regenrate into something better?

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