Two days off. Need to take this time to consolidate myself. Clean up around the house. Clean the bathroom sink, toilet, and do the dishes. Pay the internet bill. Appease roommates who may be plotting against me. It’s paranoid of me to suspect this, but I wouldn’t put it past a lesbian and a gay. They get together and gossip all the time.
I remember hearing all my life that you shouldn’t live with a gay. I never gave it much thought but now I understand why. Also, I work next to Logan Circle in DC, where you’re pretty much guaranteed to get a dick up your ass just for walking down the street. It’s the gayest place I’ve ever seen, and I lived most of my life in Bloomington, Indiana.
We live in a time when gay people are celebrated and encouraged. This is because gays are superficially fun, artistic, and fashionable. But underneath the veneer of cultural sophistication and progressive thinking, gays are deeply disturbed, pathological people. They don’t really even have actual personalities. A gay person is mostly made up of dramatic, histrionic mannerisms, extreme vulnerability and cowardice, and ruthless cunning. Not to mention the grotesque lust that animates his life.
Hey, I’m a disgusting man and I would fuck every woman I see if they would let me. The gays don’t have that check on their sexuality. They don’t have to work around not getting laid whenever they want. This is catastrophic for their personal development. A straight man has to cultivate his soul to suppress and camouflage his rabid sexual urges. Women will only fuck him, even if he’s good looking, if he accomplishes something or makes something of himself. It’s an arrangement that works well for civilization.
The gay man’s life is much more easily centered around immediate gratification because other gay men don’t care about anything other than getting off. They don’t need to know anything about you or size up your credentials before they’re bending over and spreading their ass cheeks. Couple this with the fact that gays don’t reproduce and the result is an empty, frivolous life of short term pleasure seeking that becomes more and more depraved and desperate as the years advance.
My gay roommate is over the top loud. He shouts, sings, and screams whenever he pleases for whatever reason. He stomps around and slams drawers and cupboards. He has no regard for the peace of mind of others. He has no peace of mind himself, and often cracks jokes about his “other self” that he has named Veronica, who is caustic and cruel. He’s on multiple mood medications and psychic stabilizers. He’s a cocktail(ha) of imbalances, tics, and perversions just waiting for a major meltdown. And he sleeps about twenty feet away from me.
I’m also back to the opinion that dating isn’t worthwhile at all. DC women are plain, to put it nicely. You never hear of a beautiful, stunning person making plans to go to DC. They go to New York, Miama, LA, pretty much anywhere but DC. Even small towns generate a few beauties. But no one is born in DC. It’s where the unsexy, boxy, dull, obnoxious nerds go to get government and nonprofit jobs. There’s a quiet irony to my life here, but for as much as it makes me laugh internally, it doesn’t exactly fulfill my sexual needs.
At 30, I have no energy for dating. It seems unnatural to not be raising kids and thinking of the next generation at this age. I’m selfish and corrupt, but for the sake of a culture’s health I don’t think it’s wise to encourage single 30 year olds to focus on finding themselves. It should be out of their system by now. The trouble is that I’m bored of single life and trying to get laid, but I’m disgusted by the idea of getting married and having children.
Between boredom and disgust, or boredom and terror, as Schopenhauer would put it. That’s the human condition. You’re either bored or about to be crushed to death, or starving or fighting off a bear, or tending to the needs of egoistic dependents that sprang out of your ballsack. Take your pick.