DJWhite

I’ve never really worried about where my life was going until just recently.

For as long as I can remember, going to college and succeeding was a given. All my teachers, friends, and family told me over and over again that I was too smart not to succeed. I completely bought it. I never questioned it because I was never given cause to question. I grew up in a school with a relatively low level of competition; I was never challenged. In high school, I never needed to study for tests or quizzes. Homework, when I came down off my high horse and decided it was worthy of my attention, could usually be cranked out in five to ten minutes. It was the essays that got me. They made me actually think, and I was not used to that.

I’ve realized lately that knowing things doesn’t make someone smart. The real challenge came in understanding things. Sure, I knew things. I memorized facts, figures, dates, names, events, etc; in other words, I memorized just enough to give myself the appearance of intelligence. If someone would ask me what happened on December 7th, 1941, I could tell them almost without having to think. But, if someone were to ask me what the underlying factors, causes, and implications of World War II were, there’s no way in existence I could help them. This kind of intelligence, pseudo-intelligence, only got me so far. When I hit college, the level of competition skyrocketed. All of a sudden, I was having to deal with concepts and ideas. I was not prepared for it at all. I gave myself way too much credit, like I always have. Everywhere I look, I see prepared, motivated, self-sufficient thinkers, and as arrogant as it probably sounds, I feel academically inadequate for the first time in my life.

Of course, I’ve never been a great athlete; I’ve never been at the top of any social hierarchy I’ve ever been a part of; I’ve never been particularly skilled when it comes to girls; I’m not the most handsome guy in the world; and as much as I would like to think otherwise, I’ve realized that I’m not very funny. Despite all of this, I’ve always been able to hold onto the fact that I was always just a little bit smarter than my those around me. Now, I’ve got nothing. At most, I’m second-best at anything I try. That thought is extremely emasculating. Once I realized that there’s always going to be someone better than me at something, I really just gave up trying. More and more, I’ve been feeling like I really don’t have anything to keep me going.

And from that point of view, I lash out at my betters. If I feel like someone has the upper hand in a situation that I have no control over, I realize that I resort to personal attacks, i.e. insults, name-calling, belittling. I devolve into this immature thing that, because it has given up on contending in the adult world, has nothing better to do than to sit around all day and be angry. If anyone reading this has ever been on the receiving end of my immaturity, I would like to take this time to apologize. There’s nothing you’ve done to deserve being treated like shit. You’re a human being, and I have no right to judge you in anyway.

As I’m on the verge of ending my college career, I look at what’s ahead of me. I think to myself, “What am I going to do now? Am I going to continue sitting around, becoming nothing more than a waste of space and resources? Am I’m going to get a job? What the hell am I going to do?” I see nothing in my future. It’s an abyss, devoid of action, excitement, or satisfaction, and I’m slowly falling into it. At a certain point, I will cease to exist and noone will think of me again. I’ll be a little blade of grass under the universe’s foot. Maybe there’s a chance that I’ll get out of this slump, but with thoughts like these, who needs motivation?

Why not? I daresay that my “friends” wouldn’t miss me. I can’t see that anything i do in life has any positive effect on things. In fact, if i were gone, smiles might be a little bit bigger, laughs might be a little bit louder, and people might be a little bit happier. All i do is cause problem after problem. I do not affect anyone in a way thats beneficial to them or me. I don’t have a single voice in my life that tells me “No, don’t do it. You have so much to live for. You have people that depend on you and love you. Don’t do it.” In the absence of that voice, these thoughts grow. There’s nothing but pure cowardice that stops me from jumping off that ledge or picking up that knife. Loneliness is a debilitating disease, and i fruitlessly seek a cure that doesn’t seem to exist. Even talking about it makes me feel like a self-absorbed asshole who can’t do anything but complain and who doesn’t have the balls to pull the trigger. If there’s a god, he seems to have made a decision. If there’s not, the universe cares little for one human on one planet in one solar system in one galaxy. The coldness numbs me, as if i wasn’t already senseless enough. Maybe i should just fall into a permanent kind of sleep.

Do you ever wonder if you’re destined to be alone for the rest of your life? I think about that sometimes. Usually when I’m in a severe state of self-pity and depression, but that’s neither here nor there. Everywhere I look around and I see people who have someone who loves them not because they have to, like family. That’s all I’ve ever wanted. That’s what would make me happy. That alone would complete my life. If I could have that, I wouldn’t need anything else in my life. But no, all my relationships don’t work out, and after every one, I’m left in a deeper state of self-induced depression than I was before. Even when I start to have a crush on a girl, it’s always cut short before it really goes anywhere. Killed in it’s infancy. That’s when shit really hits me. I find myself asking questions like “What’s wrong with me?” and “Why do I do this to myself?” When I like someone and get shut down like that, I tend to bitch and moan to myself, where it doesn’t do any good. I think to myself not about what everyone tells me to tell myself: “You’ll find the one for you eventually, just keep trying!” No, what I normally think about is that the girl would rather be alone than even try to get to know me. You know what? Maybe I am just not looking at the right girls. Maybe I aim too high for myself. I’m a chubby, unathletic, moderately intelligent, cynical, jealous, selfish, rude, unfunny, unmotivated, young, white male. Maybe I should be aiming for those girls that you have to pay for. You know, prostitutes. Cause at that point, they’re contractually oblilgated to be with me. No, that’s not it. I’d eventually run out of money. But I digress. I think I’ve come to the conclusion that I’m alone because I feel sorry for myself, and I feel sorry for myself because I’m alone. Whoo! And seeing as how nothing seems like it’s likely to change, it’s not looking like a good, good life at this point. I seem to have friends, yes. But that’s only because we live in such close proximity. If we didn’t live in the same dorm right now, I can guarantee we would not be friends. But even so, I don’t think a person can survive on just friends alone. People need to feel a close, interpersonal bond with someone that they can share for the rest of their lives. That’s what people are searching for, and it’s exactly what doesn’t seem to be in the cards for me right now or anywhere in the near future. YAY! FOREVER ALONE!