I am finally in a depressed-enough position to present another edition of rejected Facebook posts. A girl took a sudden interest in me on Plenty of Fish, and though we had texted and actually talked, I fear once again I am a One-Call Wonder.
As with previous posts (follow the tag), Facebook status updates get rejected due to changing circumstances, because they have fallen out of favor, or because I wrote too many on a single topic. I limit myself to a single update per day (if that) so multiple variations on a theme means many of these updates end up in "the pile". They get mixed up over time so I wouldn't concern yourself with chronology...
Though I despise the holiday conceptually, having gone 21 years without a Valentine has taken its toll on me... --- I actually went for a positive post that day instead posting songs expressing energetic infatuation ("Darlin'" by the Beach Boys is my prime example). I tend to find love songs too wistful and reveling in nostalgia (and slow) whereas I equate being in love as a catalytic motivation. Given my lack of realized love, it's no surprise that I find myself gravitating to its simplest expressions well into my 30s.
If cost is the only basis for your purchases, then you are an asshole... --- Though related to the sentiment "cheaper isn't always better" and "people over pennies", I did not do this often enough to exempt me from being a hypocrite so it went unposted.
I need to endure an irresistibly high level of human interaction with a strong emphasis on touch... --- I think this was inspired by the isolation trials endured by rhesus monkeys in the 1960s and attempts to rehabilitate them, all of which centered on gentle, persistent touching. Though not in a cage of steel, I am nonetheless within one. My life is not measured in human happiness.
I'm fortunate to have a job which tolerates my depression... --- I could resurrect this one. I wrote this on the tail end of my Digby depressions. I've been otherwise fine for several months. My declines (much like this one too I suspect) have been spiky in nature rather than overall. But yes, my job can be performed even in the most sluggish and people-hating moods. I can retreat to my own little world working mostly on autopilot for days at a time and no one who has power over me says anything.
Judging a man's worth by his height is no different than judging a woman's worth by her breast size. --- One of my many reactions to online dating. I feel this one somewhat acutely as I am 5'9" which is just an inch below the typically minimally desirable threshold of 5'10". It sucks being judged by something one has no control over considering I come replete with other undesirable traits. Of course, a woman's breast size is hardly immutable these days...I need a better counterexample.
The price of a youthful countenance is a life unlived... --- When some people find out my real age, I often receive the not-as-complimentary-as-they-think-it-is compliment regarding how young I look for my age. I should look older and more weathered than I do, but my life has been lacking in overt stressors because I have not lived it. Oh, I've been alive for over thirty years, but that doesn't mean I've lived it and so I remain young-looking. It's a kind of curse. It really is...
A few times when I say "miss", I am actually referring to longing but the vast majority of the time, it is a feeling I get when I know or suspect you will not ever be returning... --- I could actually still use this. I hate when people ask me if I've missed them when they were gone. The answer is no and it's not to be a dick, but because I knew you were coming back. I don't miss people who haven't really gone and if I've stopped missing you, that's a good thing, a really good thing...
She is Heaven on the Body, Hell upon the Heart, and Poison to the Mind... --- I wanted to render this in French, but I don't know the language well enough to pull that off (prepositions are a bitch in other languages...so idiomatic). I figured it would give it a dignified appearance in that language. I wrote this when Digby showed up unexpectedly at work with a friend of hers after she had quit. A minute or two of exposure sent me into a multi-hour depression. My actual status update that day remarked on the inherent unfairness of that.
People don't change. They only come to terms with whom they have always been... --- I would not be able to back up this claim if challenged on it, so I left it out. I do believe it though. I see it in the behavior of children. What they're doing appears no different than my interactions with adults, it's just the latter have better developed vocabularies and more sophisticated forms of persuasion. Whereas children wear their sins on their sleeves, adults are better at hiding them convincing both others and themselves that their intentions are not rooted entirely in their own unique expression of selfishness. A user who comes to terms with being a user doesn't necessarily become a better person, but he does become more aware of himself and that his intentions were never innocent. He can make it so that desire to satisfy his desires does not take from others more than he needs to. [ALTERNATE VERSION: We are who we have always been: we only get better at hiding it from others...]
Just a friendly reminder, if I look tired but you have not seen me yawning...I'm not tired. --- Depression and sleepiness, though they outwardly look very similar, are not the same thing. Yawning gives sleepiness away. I like to give helpful P.S.A.s from time-to-time for my readers.
I have never felt so worthless except in your presence... --- Another unexpected Digby visitation to bring out the creative darkness in my soul. I'm assuming she should be making only rare appearances from now on in this entry series.
Happiness, like quarks, cannot exist in isolation. --- I already did a post using quarks so this felt like overkill. The idea behind it though was that happiness requires the participation and continued cooperation of others to make real (the gluons if you will). I can will happiness into existence myself, but it will not last long with the happiness quark returning to the void whence it came, its energy lost to me, without an outside force to perpetuate it. I guess the quantum emotional equation would be that I first will a hope particle into existence. If nothing acts upon that hope, it decays through various misery chains until its energy ultimately dissipates depriving me of some of my native power. If that hope particle interacts with a validating force, the hope particle realizes into happiness perpetuated by positive feedback validation. Sustained happiness realizes into motivation and ultimately, purpose, a particle which can withstand considerably longer periods without validation than can standard happiness and motivation particles. Something like that...do I look like a particle physicist to you? :-) [ALTERNATE VERSION: No dream can ever come to fruition without the cooperation of others...]
If people could make themselves happy, there would be no sadness in this world... --- See above.
Choosing to be happy is like choosing to be gay: it doesn't work that way. --- I still like this one but the potential for the argument to be problematic kept me from posting it. If you truly can't choose to be happy, then it's fine; but if it turns out you can choose to be happy, then that puts me in a bad place in the gay community (not that previous posts made in this blog put me in a good place with them).
I don't know anything about my family: that's why they're so wonderful! --- I cannot see how this post could possibly go over well, thus I avoided it. It's in the vein of "ignorance is bliss". I'm sure everyone in my family has awful things about them and associated with them: no one is innocent. But I am largely unaware of their faults so they come across as better people to me than perhaps they ought. So while on the one hand, this potential update is a compliment...I highly doubt it would be interpreted that way.
Just to be clear, if I am offered the ability to cover the world in shadows and ice, and enact petty revenge schemes all in the name of discord and envy; and all it would cost me is everyone I love...well...it was nice knowing you. --- Sometimes I have very bad days predicated on the thought that maybe, just maybe, one of the girls I have ever been attracted to could have maybe, just maybe, given me a chance...
That one made me wish I had bothered to study her face... --- One night, there was this really hot woman bagging her groceries, frequently bending forward revealing her ampleness to all the male employees around. We all got several eyefuls worth each and did not care when she had caught us doing so.
It is as hard for a woman to be a loser as it is for a man to be a winner... --- My general mood must have improved because I can't see why I would never have posted this. Basically, no woman can truly understand the loneliness of a man because a woman chooses to be alone whereas a man can only try to not be alone. A woman may not end up with the man she wants, but she will always end up with one whereas a man is guaranteed no such thing...not even a woman he does not want. A man can only offer...it is the woman, and only the woman, who accepts.
Last night I was asked, "How many girlfriends have you had?" I thought it was so cute that she used an "s". --- The problem with this update, besides the fact that I was never actually asked such a question, is that the sentence loses its syntax if you only drop the "s" from "girlfriends". What this needed was a sentence whose syntax is preserved in both the singular and plural. When I think of sentence that both works and does not sound clumsy, just such an update will likely find its way into my Facebook account.
Positive support is the result of positive assessment... --- I forgot what inspired this. I'm not even sure what I meant by it anymore either. I think it was something along the lines of "confidence inspires confidence". In other words, if you view things positively, you encourage others to see things positively too. I guess what I was getting at was if you want people to go along with you or do what you're asking of them, you should have a positive outlook on the task ahead or favor desired. I may have been talking to my Best Friend when I thought this. She has a very negative outlook on life and of others and when she asks why guys don't want to be with her, I remind her of this asking rhetorically, "Why would a guy want to go out with a girl who is always so negative and looking down on others?" Maybe...
She wanted a Vâchon, just not this Vâchon... --- Before I lost access to her Facebook account, Digby announced she was in a relationship (the first time ever this status has changed in the four years I had known her despite learning later that she had had like three boyfriends that whole time). The guy's first name was my own. Knowing that gave the fact an extra sting.
Yay! Another year closer to the sweet release of death! --- It was supposed to be my first update of the New Year. I forgot what I went with instead, but it wasn't this...not that I couldn't use it next year. The intention is humorous. I hate that I need to clarify these things...
The shirt's gay because it's pink. The fact that you're calling the color anything other than pink means it's definitely gay... --- A thought I had (and shared with friends afterward) after hearing my manager being teased by his underlings for his pink shirt which he insisted was not pink, but salmon. This is one of those updates I had to leave off the feed because I have gay friends who, despite labeling themselves liberal, are very quick to hypocritically censor the language of others (denigrating Christianity because they don't accept us? Fine and if you don't like it, you're violating my free speech rights. - Someone used "gay" in a way that meant anything other than homosexual? Hate speech deserving of censorship.). It was not a one-sided debate I had felt like getting in to.
I waste my serotonin on orgasms... --- Enjoy the mental image that conjures why don'tcha? Yes, it's a masturbation reference because it's not like when I get joyful, I get to spend it in the company of others making experiences that will last a lifetime. No, I'm forced to endure my joy alone because nobody's off when I'm off, nobody's available when I'm actually on vacation (and thus available on a normal day like Friday and Saturday), nobody's awake when I'm awake, or I'm simply stuck at work. I set aside time for people who time after time let me down. These days it feels like all my real friends are in different states/time zones. Is it any wonder that I'm generally so dismissive of people who do want to hang out with me? Trust me, something will come up and you will have to cancel. That's been the story of my life for everything I have ever wanted to do with others since 1994 when I first started keeping records of them (except those two times). Sometimes I've been down so long that my emotional state bounces into a more manic one and instead of that energy being used to catalyze a longer-lasting generally good state, because of the aforementioned reasons, I end up with the rejected update...
Wow, was I even allowed to look at those girls? --- A gaggle of jailbait walked into to my store one night in ridiculously skimpy outfits turning heads. They even came to my line. That was the first sentence I uttered to a female employee after they had left earshot. She laughed and told me no :-)
She's finally old enough to downgrade me from pervert to creep... --- We have an employee whose family has been coming in since she was seven. I started noticing her when she hit puberty (don't judge me...though that link's not really an accurate description for what I'm talking about) and learned recently that she had just turned eighteen. Though she's not one of my Facebook friends, I did not feel like opening that can of worms. That being said, I still find the sentiment funny despite its negative reflection on me.
A confident man puts himself first whereas shy ones put others first... --- Without any corroborating evidence I am suggesting that confident people are considerably more selfish than shy people or that at least they possess fewer mental impediments when exploiting others in order to realize their selfishness. I'm saying that shy people first consider the implications of their actions and are eager to not have their desires satisfied at the expense of others whereas a confident person does not. As a shy person, I am being openly biased towards my way of thinking and attempting to justify it as better than the thinking of a confident person in an effort to convince women that my type is ultimately better for them as a shy man concerns himself with your happiness whereas a confident man concerns himself only with his and if his happiness happens to increase your own, it was not his intent but merely a coincidence. My way of thinking ensures that my happiness can only come as the result of increasing your own. The happiness of the shy man is the rising tide that lifts all boats whereas the happiness of a confident man lifts only his boat and those of its passengers whom can be tossed overboard at any time.
Anyone who thinks words hurt is a dumb motherfucking asshole retarded faggot!!! --- While the ridiculousness of this statement makes me laugh, I felt that the idea that "words don't hurt, intent does" would be lost on enough of my readers to avoid posting it. Also, that update potentially may have run afoul of Facebook's posting policies as it could easily be misconstrued as hate speech (which, if you actually thought it to be hate-speech, actually makes you an example of the kind of humorless person the joke that is that rejected status update is making fun of). Why didn't I use racial slurs in it? Because racial slurs apply only to a subset of the population and not potentially to everyone as a whole. Anybody can be any of those slurs listed. Though I doubt it would get me out of trouble, I contend that the intent behind the words matters infinitely more than the words themselves. If I say, "Don't look at me like that you spoon!", odds are you would find me ridiculous because what does that even mean? However, if I said those exact words while grabbing you and pushing you against a wall menacingly, you will feel fear but you will be feeling fear over the body-language, not the word. You would feel the same way if your attacker did not speak your language. Getting offended over what was said is idiotic. Getting offended over how it was said, however, can be meritorious.
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