Not that it's like a bolt out of the blue or anything, but today I'm actually writing it down and shouting it from the virtual hilltop that is a MySpace blog. I'M A MISERABLE BASTARD!!! I recognize this isn't much of a shock to anyone who knows me or has ever listened to my songs.
So, why do I seem to permanently reside in the state of miserable-bastardness (MB if you're into the brevity thing)? Well, I'm 36 and single and I don't have any real hope that that's going to change anytime soon. I'm just not meeting any women. That could be related to the fact that in addition to being a miserable bastard, I'm also practically a hermit. Not going out much makes me hard to find I guess. I hang out with my friends, 95% of whom are married, but they don't have any single female friends to introduce me to, as their wives seem to frown on that (the having single female friends thing, not the introducing me to people thing). Those wives are of no help either, they all claim not to have any single friends. When you get married, is there something in some obscure part of the legal code that requires you to only hang out with other married people? Or maybe they know a few but they're not "right for me." One person said she wouldn't "subject me" to any of her friends. If, her friends are so awful that she has to protect me from them, why is she friends with them?
It probably doesn't help that in addition to the miserable bastard thing and the isolationist stance, I'm a bit of a misanthrope (not misogynistic, mind you). People tend to piss me off. They're either driving too slow in front of me, or leaving their shopping cart in the middle of the aisle (and not responding when you say "excuse me"), or trying to get on the train as soon as the doors open, oblivious to the fact that if they let me off there would be room for them... I can go on and on with this but you get the idea. And though I clearly don't mind being alone, I can't stand the feeling of loneliness. Yes, I have tried to follow the advice of Wilco's "How to Fight Loneliness" and it's a great song, but what I need is more "How to Defeat Loneliness."
Being a miserable bastard does have it's perks though - at least for my chosen line of work. It does provide fuel my creative engine. No need to look for alternate energy sources yet. But that makes me wonder - am I keeping myself a miserable bastard because I'm afraid if I find some happiness in my life, the well dries up for creative inspiration? I don't think I'm doing that, but perhaps there may be some subconcious activity afoot.
Looking back at past relationships, I see they tended to be "proximity infatuations," often with seemingly unobtainable women (I tend to want what I can't have). There was a woman I worked with - she was friendly, flirty, and attractive enough to be considered "out of my league" by probably everyone else in the store. But she flirted with me, and because I was single and lonely, I allowed myself to think she really liked me. I pursued her fervently but I got nowhere, it remained flirtation on her part. So I wrote a song, "The Rarest of Birds," about that pursuit and my longing for her. Then after another batch of fruitless attempts to win her heart I wrote another song, "Ashes & Embers." It was the "I'm dropping the torch I've been carrying for you" song, although in reality I didn't drop the torch. Finally one day, we went out to dinner as "friends" and when I parked the car back at work (so she could get her car), she leaned over and kissed me. The kiss quickly turned into a serious make-out session. I had broken down her defenses and suceeded in my pursuits, and that's the precise moment I knew that it was doomed. Her intital flirtations had blinded me to the truth - we had nothing in common besides working together. All I saw was an attractive woman flirting with me. Now the spell was broken and reality stared me in the face, with her tongue down my throat. Now here's where I admit to being a shallow man. Had I had any nobility or honor, I would've said, "Stop, we both know this isn't going to work. If you think about it, you don't really like me. You'd see it's just that you're lonely and I'm here." But of course, I didn't say that. I kept my mouth shut (metaphorically speaking since tongues were involved) and we kept hooking up for a few months, but I didn't really have that overwhelming passion to be with her anymore. I decided that she was probably just using me and I was fine with that. Eventually she broke it off, which is when... the old feeling of wanting to pursue her returned. "What a piece of work is man" - Billy Shakes was right about that.