Chapter 34

I’ll have to stop going to bars by myself. All I ever do when I go there is get some hot wings, a couple drinks, and depressed. I go there -- or at least I tell myself I go there - to meet people, only I don’t ever meet anybody, I just sit by myself and drink by myself and get depressed. Tonight there were a few people there from my grad classes, and they invited me to come sit with them, only they talked to me for maybe five minutes then ignored me the rest of the night until they left, so I don’t know what good it was for them to invite me to sit with them. I didn’t know the woman who was with them. She was a recent graduate of the program and she was with this one guy who looks like his face is sliding off his skull. I don’t know why she was with him, as ugly as he is and as pretty as she is. I could understand if he were a brilliant writer, but he’s not. Actually, he is a brilliant writer, he’s just a very bad story-teller. Line by line, sentence by sentence, he’s brilliant in his word choice, sentence structure, and details, but his stories don’t make any sense. In one of our workshops, we argued whether or not the main character was a prostitute. If you cannot tell, it is a poorly-written story. All of his stories I’ve read are equally baffling. He needs to be a poet, where story-telling doesn’t matter. So I don’t know why she was with him. I don’t think it’s personality, because he comes off as stupid (though I know he’s not) and he’s dry and uninteresting whenever I’ve talked to him or heard someone else talking to him. Writers should be the most interesting people, since part of their job is interpreting the world. But he’s not. This only made me even more depressed that I can’t get anybody. I wish I could get up the strength to talk to someone, but it seems I’ve reverted to my pre-sexual experience state in female relations. I’ve been told that when I stop looking, I’ll get a woman, and I know that is true. Women only want men who do not want them, but seem to be turned off by a man who is actively looking. I only wish I could turn it off and appear to not be looking. Better yet, appear that I already have someone. If I bought a gold band and put it on my left ring finger, I wouldn’t be able to beat the women off me.

I’m so sick of everything. I’m sick of women and their games. I’m sick of being lonely. I’m sick of being unloved (yes, my parents love me dearly, but that is not what I am talking about). I just want someone to hold and love. And when I find a woman who reacts to these sentiments, it turns out to be someone like L., who is incapable of love. I don’t want much. I want someone to love who will love me back. I want someone smart and educated. I want someone who loves life, who enjoys being alive and wants to have fun in life with me. I used to have far more criteria, but I’ve learned they don’t mean much. These are the only ones left. Still, I cannot find anyone who fits even these criteria. Most women hate themselves too much. You have to love yourself first to love others, just as you must love yourself to enjoy life.

Admittedly, I am not enjoying life too much right now. I’m depressed and lonely and I feel unloved - I am unloved. I’m even more depressed because Wednesday I talked to my friend Andrea's dad and he said he would tell her I had Wednesday and Thursday off so she could come over and visit me, only she never showed up. I like Andrea, but I’m growing very tired of her. I’ve been calling every day and haven’t heard from her once, and when her dad says she’ll come over, I don’t see her. I haven’t seen her all day today (it’s almost 2:30 in the morning as I write this, having come back from The Mahogany, so it’s still the day before to me). I need a friend who will be here for me, who will visit me. Steve has moved back home and he’ll be going to Denver in the Fall. I can’t count on Andrea, she’s already shown me that. At least without Donna here, I’ll have the opportunity to make friends this Summer and Fall. At least Summer classes start soon.

But enough whining. I’m tired of whining, and I’m sure you’re tired of it too. I hate whining. That’s why I hate so much of the music put out anymore. All it is is a bunch of whining. That’s why I’m not a Democrat. I’m not a Republican because of social issues. I’m not a Democrat because all they do is whine. Whining accomplishes nothing. Action is the only thing that gets things done. I need to get active, do something to take care of my problems (you will please note that I have come to this conclusion only as I have sobered). I have a story to tell. I’ve left you in limbo for long enough in regards to my introducing Michel to his characters Bernard and Marcus. It’s time I took you, and him, to the café and introduced Michel to them.