Session 1

I've been putting off writing this for a while. Every time I sit down to write the first thing that comes to mind is that I write out an outline, maybe follow a structure or some process, all it does is put some distance between me and writing something down. Even as I write this now, I have no idea what the theme of my blog is going to be; will I talk about my life? Will I talk about some obscure interest of mine? This pursuit of perfection was depriving me of any real, authorship like I was trying too hard to get an audience instead of just expressing myself. So I thought, fuck it! I ditched the essay outline and the structure and decided to let the chips fall where they may. 

Life is hard, that's a fact, and when people pretend that it isn't, it just sets you up for major disappointment. If there is any reason for me to write this, it's just so I can tell the fucking truth. 

My life has been a mask of pretence, born out of fear, fear of rejection, disappointment, pain and isolation. Some of it justified, other times imposed on me by the resentment and tyranny of evil men, and women... well mostly women, at least in my experience. 

I grew up in a household governed by women, mostly as a result of daddy not being home for whatever reason. They were primarily concerned with keeping up appearances, they put far more emphasis on the way they look on the surface with very little inner work. Maybe that's why women are so insecure and tend to have a bland personality. Still, when you are a young boy that doesn't know any better, you put too much stock in it for fear of being hit with the wooden spoon. And when there is no accompanying carrot, well, all you know is fear, and suddenly there is no reason to become. 

I've spent much of my life trying to find the answer to that question, why? Why was I here? 

I was raised to know that I was, a lazy, stupid, disrespectful child, and maybe that's what I was, God knows children are no saints, most of them are fully grown adults.

But if you convince someone long enough that they have nothing to offer, that becomes their reality, and in a world such as ours, that's no basis for long term survival. 

We are a generation of boys raised by women. Women are not suited for that kind of responsibility, you end up with resentful men and boys who lash out at the system, that's why most of them are in prison or dying by suicide. When your worth as a man is defined by your utility, the last thing you need is for someone to convince you that you have no service. 

Sadly I can't afford therapy, that's what happens when you have nothing to offer, people tend not to pay you for that sort of thing. So you wind up trying all kinds of remedies to fix the ailment, but you can only get so far when you are useless. 

So here I am, doing my best to find some sanity on a public forum. I can't afford to think more than that right now, life is full of too many disappointments, and I am learning not to put too much stock in external validation. I doubt any of this will go down well but how much worse could it really get when I am still living out the consequence of willful blindness. 

I will tell the truth about my own personal experiences. It helps me come to terms with reality and with no one else to speak to, it seems reasonable to project my thoughts into the void. Its been pretty depressing so far, and I don't know if there will be a happy ending, but I can at least be confident of further inspiration.