I’d been a bit absent, lately,
in recent months. This has been due to personal difficulties, on account of various things:
- Back and neck pain
- Budgeting challenges
- Poor weather
- Perceived, or actual threats, to my personal security
- Persona developments
- Remote sensing acquisitions of my time
The truth is, I’d become a bit apathetic, and worry-worn, due to constant challenges and negativity surrounding me, essentially drawing a dark cloud over previous years, in which I’d had eccentric bursts of creativity and prolific resource of novelty and humor. These days, I find it difficult to drum up the same personal rapport and morale, being that the situations suppose, even more than I’d experienced, previously, since I began suffering from bouts of hearing persecutors voices, and from then until now - largely, now, have a distinctive dark taint of familiarity, amongst the characters whom present themselves to me, as harassers, which envelops my subconscious mood and fears of ever establishing yet another dysfunctional relationship, that I bring myself in to.
To be sure, it’s mostly guys that do this to me. With women, I’m much more optimistic, of that they could be “fixed,” perhaps, if necessary, or set aright, in some manner, if it came to that - it’s just sort of a feeling, more than that anything’s materialized; encounters with females are scarce, and not much of anything, although I have been feeling sparks of inspiration, in romance, in recent days and weeks, I’d suppose, and I guess that I’ve been working myself up to dipping my toes in the water, once again, so to speak. It’s a raw deal, that I run, being that I’m fraught with such a defensive and secluded personality framework spectrum of “possible” me’s, which I could make available, and secure some kind of workable sociability profile, for a lady, being that I’m picky, I’ve got formative standards and boundaries set for myself - I don’t tolerate much of any kind of conflict, or distaste, or aversion, to something that’s “not right,” or worse, in a relationship setting, being that I’m a very high 99th percentile degree of honest, and forthcoming, in life, I “don’t smoke (any drugs),” I’m very much present, in the moment, when it comes to opportunities to judge people, and on top of that, my neurotic spectrum of tendencies is still of that I’m generally shy, not much really capable of coming up with a right way to casually wedge my way in to some young lady’s life, and circumstances, and, furthermore, I’m somewhat expected to not even try to date, while on the job, for various reasons and rationale:
- I’m a bum
- My clothes are oftentimes messy
- Sometimes I sweat a lot
- I have a bunch of baggage - literal, bum and pigeon-feeding bum sorts of carry-along baggage
- My nose leaks and drips, endlessly
- I feel like crap, as far as limber qualities - I carry a lot of bags, as I’d mentioned
- A lot of people (women) could run circles around me, in socialization standards
- I’m there for the pigeons, and I can’t afford to look like a creep
- It’s a better trade-off, to be silent, keep to myself, and persist, in feeding pigeons
- I run a strictly fairly conservative Christian Protestant profile, of not much talk, or socializing
- I just keep to myself
- I have to protect my iPad Pro
- Sometimes, I feel like people are following me
- I have people making appearances in my mind, all the time
- I feel like some people definitely don’t like me, categorically, and sometimes, they show up, in town
- I feel like it would look funny, or scandalous, if I somehow materialized some kind of idealized female counterpart, at my side
- People put my personal private time at issue, and they criticize ostensible things that I do (or not)
- I have to do a sit-in job, while out and about, of performing licensed talk and behavioral therapist, marriage and family therapist, some sort of amalgamated public and mental health capacity type of fill-in, sort of work profile, lumped in
- Maybe these are just the “toilet can years” of this pigeon-feeding gig’s enterprise
