Other posts related to reality

I Can’t See Her Anymore

Lincoln Adams | August 19, 2008 @ 2:04 am

Ugh, I can’t sleep.

See, it used to be whenever I had trouble falling asleep I would think about how I’d meet my dream girl, exploring all the possibilities on how we’d end up together and fall in love.  Just holding on to those dreams would put my mind at enough ease that I could finally conk out and get a good night’s rest.  It was my own personal way of counting sheep, and I’d been doing it for years and years.  No matter what shape or form she took, I could always imagine her easily, beautiful and loving and caring.  My hope kept her real, helped me to believe that she was out there, and that it was only time that kept us apart, until such time finally came to an end.

But now I can’t see her anymore.

As hard as I try to imagine, my mind can’t focus enough for her to appear again, and I’m tossing and turning trying to fall asleep, wondering why it’s so hard now to even put a few thoughts together so I can dream about her for just a little while.

If there was ever a solid indication that my dream has finally died though, this would be it.  Maybe my mind is finally coming to terms with the reality that I will never, ever meet someone.  This world has become too evil, too foregone a conclusion, and I myself am just too different, too detached from humanity for it to even be possible anymore.  Maybe if I had been born 50 years ago I might have had a chance.  But not today.

My dream really is over.  I will never sleep again.

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How Billy Joel Broke My Heart

Lincoln Adams | August 13, 2008 @ 7:49 pm

It’s no secret that I live the life of a Downtown Man. Women who lived in an uptown world, along with their fancy college degrees and white collar professions could never go for a blue collar bum like me. Social status doesn’t exist in a vacuum after all, and if I don’t got the mojo, then there’s no way I can land me some high class ho-hos, ya know?

But Billy Joel, he made me believe. He made me dare to dream in the hopes that maybe, just maybe, there was an Uptown girl out there who could see past my blue collar ways, and past the gruff exterior. Yes you did, Billy Joel:

But I see now that it was all a dirty, filthy, vomitous lie. Damn you Billy Joel!! Damn you for making me dream wonderful dreams, only to see reality grind them out like so much meat!!!! I hate you I hate you I hate you I hate you I hate you…

:cry4:

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A Series of Unfortunate Events

Lincoln Adams | October 3, 2006 @ 9:59 pm

Certain events in the past have played a significant role in devastating my pysche, which by themselves really don’t seem like anything noteworthy, until you consider the context in which they happened.

For example, when I first started blogging, one of my secret desires behind my decision to blog, was that by putting my thoughts online, it’d give me an opportunity to meet a beautiful girl who thought the same way I did. Eventually, a reader who fit that profile DID start visiting my blog on a regular basis. Gorgeous, young, Christian and a staunch conservative, she was a rarity who might have been perfect had she not lived so far away. So what happens? She meets someone through HER blog, and they get married a few months later. What I had hoped so badly would happen to me ,happened to someone else instead.

Shortly afterwards, I met a pretty female co-worker who had recently joined our division. Now over the years, I had always fantasized about meeting someone through my job, where we’d end up working together and eventually falling in love. I even envisioned over what she might look like: long brown hair, beautiful brown eyes and a healthy mocha skin. We’d share the same interests and passions, while one personality smoothly complemented the other. A match made in heaven.

So when a pretty girl with long brown hair, brown eyes and beautifully tanned skin suddenly shows up in my division, I couldn’t help but take notice, especially since she was the first young woman to get assigned here in a long, long time (the kind of job done here is mostly filled by much older women in their 50s or 60s.) So after so many years of plague and darkness, I wondered: could she be…the one??

Alas, what I envisioned in my mind could not have been more out of touch with reality. We had NOTHING in common, which may have been aggravated by the fact that she had NO interest in me at all. While my passion were politics and religion, her passion was….boats. While I enjoyed visiting museums dedicated to history, her idea of spending the weekend involved attending the latest Bon Jovi concert. If I liked watching Fox News every now and then, she religiously watched the Real World on MTV.

Trying to have a conversation with her was about as invigorating and welcome as performing hernia operation on yourself using nothing more than a wooden spoon. I always had to carry the ball when we talked. She never volunteered anything, and when I couldn’t think of anything more to say, the air would hang in a kind of dead silence that could only be found at cemetaries.

Obviously, there were no sparks here. But what irked me more than anything was her total lack of interest in me. It wasn’t that she wasn’t a nice person, but that I barely registered on her radar. I would have rather she had been interested in ME, and I’D be the one who’d have to turn her down, not the other way around. It’s an ego thing, obviously, but it would have felt good to know that for once, JUST EFFING once, a pretty girl would find me interesting and attractive. Nope.

I remembered thinking at the time that the only thing that could have made it worse, was that she would fall madly in love with another coworker and eventually get married.

Welllllll, guess what. Not 5 months(?!?!?) since she started working here, she meets another coworker, falls madly in love, and is now engaged. What I had hoped so badly would happen to me, happened to someone else instead.

Are you detecting a pattern here? Imagine 20 years of this, enduring these series of unfortunate events, and you get my life. You know, it’s one thing when people meet and fall in love. I accept that, but when it happens like this, I simply can’t handle it. It’s like God is playing mind games with me, putting me in these kinds of situations where I have to endure getting speared in the most cruelest fashion possible, and yet still I must believe and accept that He is a loving God who cares about me. Yeah, sure.

This is why I am so angry at God, and cannot speak or pray to Him. It’s cruel the way I’m being treated: absolutely, despicably cruel. Maybe I deserve it though: in fact, I know I do. But I have seen some pretty bad people in my life get blessed in obscene ways that make absolutely no sense to me. I’m still trying to figure it out… still trying to make some kind of sense of it all. But I can conclude nothing except that God must truly and utterly despise me.

When I graduated college, I was filled with high hopes and expectations about everything, but the last 8 years since then has done its darndest best to utterly crush my spirit and squeeze every last drop of hope out of me. Today, I am a broken, confused and lost soul. Yet I’m still trying to find my way, still trying to seek answers for why things turned out the way they did, still trying to see some reason for it all.

In the meantime, I have to deal with the bitterness and anger I’ve been left with now. I had hoped so much that by this time I’d be in law school, if only so I’d never have to see the brown-eyed bitch again. Instead, I have to be forever reminded of what a failure I am every day that I see her. I hate her, not for who she is, but for what she represents to me: the reality that I will always be alone. I will never have a family, or anybody to love, because no one wants to love me.

To hell with you all.

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