Thursday, April 23, 2015

Rapid Psychosis

"Chicks really dig people with a lot of mental problems," said a friend. "You're a mess. That's very hot."

I was like, really? I mean, I'm not a mess, psychologically. My awareness of my mental state and other people's mental conditions means it is very difficult for me to feel extreme sadness or be very happy with people.

I understand that ultimately, all that I feel are caused by my own self. This dulls any emotion, except anger and frustration.

My father has only two emotions - angry and angrier. I am fast becoming like him, and I fear if I live long enough, I would know extreme frustration.

But seriously - chicks dig psychosis? I do not tolerate lying, but maybe highlighting some insecurities and potential problems would position me as a more attractive prospect. Of course, the moody and brooding Vincent Valentine, Kyo the Samurai and Gray Fullbuster all have mental problems and they are chick magnets.

For example, I am extremely insecure about my intelligence. A quick assessment at my childhood, growing up as the fat kid made me struggle with the stereotype of the stupid fat kid. Meanwhile, in my household, the attribute that is most coveted is intelligence, outstripping wisdom, strength, defence, magic power, agility, or any other attribute.

Would my insecurities be much more alluring than my strengths and happiness? Because as it is right now, I am quite happy. I don't go skipping around or prancing about in tights or anything, but I am quite sated. Even my heart disease means I will not live for very long - and I loathe living a long life.

I want to die when I should. Around 40-50 or so.

Anyway, long story short, I shared my insecurities and my inability to see anything other than shallowness in human interaction. Because only I see the real truth, and that is a burden rather than a gift.

And so I highlighted my insecurities. These are real - I don't believe in lying. I just omitted the fact that I am fully aware of myself and my insecurities.

"What the fuck?" said the girl.

"Well, you're supposed to fix me."

"I won't fix people," she said.

And so it ends. My insecurities are worthless. Probably because I am not that insecure since I have accepted them long ago.

Perhaps I should be sadder. But I am not. It's really difficult to brood when all my current day-to-day problems are not that dire and all the drama I face are more mellow and inconsequential than any of the stuff I faced before.

I think I'll just enjoy being happy.