A Connection

When I write, I’m making an effort to communicate. But, in the 30+ years that I’ve been doing it, I don’t think I’ve been getting the response that I want. And, the longer I live, the more I think that I will never get the response that I crave.

What I wanted, was to make a connection. But, the longer I live, the more I realize that human beings, in general, are not capable of making that sort of connection with me.

I speak because I wish to make this connection with you.

When I stop speaking, it is because I have given up on making that connection with you.

What i wanted.

I wanted to be able to hold a conversation with someone, and for them to make an effort to understand me. The reality is, nearly everyone that I communicate with is really, almost entirely and truly, wrapped up in themselves. I understand that a lot of people have a lot of things on their plates. But it has been so rare in my entire fucking lifetime that I’ve actually had an honest conversation with somebody, that… it feels so hollow. It feels like speaking is useless. This is 90% of why I just use Twitter to think out loud. I don’t believe I’ve ever gotten a real, honest, useful, or otherwise intelligent response to anything that I’ve ever said.

I have friends. I like talking to them.

I’m not talking about them. I’m talking about strangers. I have blocked probably a million people on Twitter, and there is not one strange who wanders into my mentions whom I do not loathe. And it has gotten to the point where the people are so stupid, so utterly wrapped up in their own worldviews, so incredibly unwilling— or, God fucking help me, incapable— of considering my own thought processes, or that I myself am a person, like they are, that they’re not talking to me. They’re talking at me.

They’re as good as solipsists.

I like older women. Older women in general seem to have been through enough fucking bullshit where they don’t want to play games like the rest of humanity, and they just want to get straight to the point. I like that. It’s the same reason I enjoy talking to people who have military experience. There is so much less intrigue. These people just want to live simple, honest lives.

I know that I have not been a good fit for this World. But, as I am forced to live in it, every day, I inevitably come to the conclusion that my time is being wasted. There is nothing for me, here. There has been nothing for me, here, for the past 22 years.

I have a great desire to help others. But, even after raising over a million dollars for random people, I never made any friends. I got hurt more than I was even thanked.

Largely people do not see me as a force of good. They see me as being someone that they can utilize, to get something that they want. That’s been nearly all of my life.

On the face of it all, I don’t think I even wish that things could have been different.