Satisfaction Denied

You’re just completely focused on yourself. See, it all comes down to the fact that you’re so self-absorbed anmd you have no self-esteem. You’re lonely. You’re bored. No one loves you or cares about you, and this makes you frustrated and makes you not try to do anything well anymore. After your last disastrous relationship where you finally thought someone would stay in your life and not leave you all alone, you have come to realize that you’re a total f**k-up and perhaps you need to change everything about yourself to even begin to make sense of how s****y you feel from day to day. Listen, at this moment you don’t have many good attributes at all. In the past hour you have completely drained me of any compassion or empathy. You’re just a jerk. That’s your entire problem. I already am certain I never want anything so much as an acquaintanceship with you. You’re a pain in the a*s and I never want to see you again.

Now you just heard that. I suppose that’s what I do. No, it’s what I do. I have a tendency to always exhaust people because I’m always asking them for their approval and I want their attentiuon, their friendship, their unwavering support, love, and all that utter bullshit. I have no self-confidence and I want people to know how lonely and despondent I am. I feel a lot of pain, sorrow, bitterness, anger, self-loathing. I’m neurotic and pessimistic as all Hell. I’ve never thought many good things about myself. I suffer from very very severe and debilitating depression and I refuse to get help for it, because it would be a waste of time and money. I’m going to learn to change by myself by ceasing to care about anything. I care so much about everything which has made me as miserable and stagnant as I am today. That is how I see it anyway. Obviously I don’t really know nor do I care what the truth is because maybe I just want to be right even when I am wrong because if I didn’t feel this way then I wouldn’t be such a thorn in other people’s side4s. I’m probably giving myself too much credit here. I don’t think people notice me enough foir them to be turned off by me. I don’t know. I’m more than confused, empty and despairing. The question is: why am I the way I am. Who the Hell knows and who the Hell cares. Now let’s get on with our story. I have a friend named Mallory. Yeah. I don’t know either. There she is, by the way.

(Mallory appears. Pretty or average or hideous. Doesn’t matter. She’s a girl. This guy who is as pessimistic as he claimed probably likes her, but he hates making a definite decision which leaves him alone and unable to be happy or content with anything in his life. I like that sort of a theme in my work. I’m not as pessimistic as my characters nowadays but I have often in the past been in their shoes and I realize what it’s like going to bed and feeling that no one will ever care about or love you in this one life we’re given. Perhaps my paranoia and fear hasn’t completely died. In short, he probably likes her but he has no idea who the Hell is or what the Hell he likes, so she’ll always be pissed off or annoyerd at him, and yet she continues to be his friend. How does one that work? That’s up to the actors and director, my friends. It’s not my call.)

She’s pretty, I guess. Right? Yeah, she is. It really doesn’t matter what any of you think anyway. I don’r even know who any of you people are. Oh, I suppose I might if I were paying enough attention, but I’m kind of focusing on Mallory. She’s a cool kid. She’s the only person who has always been my friend, and I have probably given her more reasons than anyone else to leave me. Maybe she’s a masochist or she loves misery, or maybe she can see beyond my exterior, and she sees into my soul which has a lot of sensitivity and kindness, and concern, and ultimately love. Or maybe she’s just a nutcase. Either way I am a little nuts about her, but I’d never let her know that since whenever I let anyone know that I like them they walk away and I never see them again. So I’ll just play hard to get. I’m bored already. Okay let’s let Mallory talk to me now a little bit.

Hey there, Bryan. You piss me off a lot. I hope you know that. You never called me or emailed me. You never came by. Where were you? What were you doing?

I was reading something. Maybe a paper or one of my textbooks. Interestingly enough I am considering going back to school in the next seven years or so. I’m not sure what it is I want to study, but I think I’ll figure something out in the next seven years. Don’t you?

I have no clue, Bryan you don’t talk to me enough for me to know any of these things.. We used to talk a lot. What happened? We’re practically strangers now.

I don’t think so. No, not at all. I’ve never been much of a talker that’s all. I never… well, we’re talking now. This is something. Anyway, you could have come by. My door is always open. I’m sure not doing anything these days. I was singing a snatch of some song yesterday such as “My Horse Died” and I came to realize that I no longer want to be sad about anything.

But you’re the saddest,. Most depressing person I have ever met in my life and yet I love you. Is there something seriously wrong with me or is there something beautiful in your soul that isn’t obvious to everyone else?

Oh, who knows. Let’s not worry about it. Damn it, I am sick of being alone all the time. I’m not meaning to complain about it, but I don’t know how many more nights I can spend staring up at a wall, wishing someone wanted to spend some time with me that wasn’t a member of my family. Now, I love my family every much but I would like some friends, and a lover or something akin to that in my life as well. I am a bit boring though, I suppose. Frustrating, right? And I don’t talk enough when people really want to hear something. I went to this party… not long ago. Lots of beer and cigarettes and loud music, obviously it was thoroughly boring and uninspiring and I began to contemplate suicide. Anyway, I got to talking to this guy. His name was Jordan, and he was asking me if I wanted to join some band he had started. Of course he was the only member. So he began giving me his philosophy of music which led to him telling me all about his philosophy of life, and I began to worry that I was wasting my entire life going to parties where people want to be loved, liked, praised and appreciated so much they will go up to perfect strangers and begin to spout off all about their worldview, and what they believe will make the world a better place. I was bored obviously. Suicidal. Sick. Nauseated. His philopshy of life was to do whatever you wanted and not worry about the consequences as long as you remained happy and could find someone to love you. I’m sure this guy has never done those things or felt those things so he was apparently giving me his idea of utopia. It was a bore, but I really do hope that this guy finds happiness, but I have my doubts. But I have a lot of doubts. I’m not unhappy I just don’t know s**t.

Okay, Bryan. I am exhausted and drained. So do you want to get some lunch?

Well I do like to eat, I guess. It gives me some… umm…

Okay, just shut up for a minute. I don’t care what it gives or gets you. How can you say so much and yet say so little. Do you have anything to say? Have you ever thought about this?

Okay, Mallory, let’s get out of here. We need a change of scenery for a while. I’m bored. You’re miserable. We better figure something out real fast. Let’s hit it.