Don’t put my sparkler in the lake

Holidays on Wednesdays might as well not exist if I gotta go back to work the following two days. My spirit is just not in it, at all. Then again, that’s probably more of a statement about the current state of American culture than me being first-world salty, but I digress.

I had an excellent 4th, in more ways than three. Nearly drowned trying to paddle board, got adopted by yet another family, and discovered the joys of lake life. I’m learning that beaches aren’t only coastal, go figure. A part of me did want to pick up some fireworks, but most of me knew I would have the patience to deal with them. I opted to have my nights punctuated with M80s and professional grade explosions instead.

BBQ was sorely missed until Saturday, during my complete booking of my weekend with prospective women. I’m debating how to regale those tales so stay tuned. I wouldn’t necessarily say I’m in trouble just yet. I learned my lesson from years prior where I had 5 or 6 women on rotation and nearly died from fatigue. So, you can imagine my delight when one of the three dates I had scheduled decided to flake/ghost me. Sunday was much needed. Also I shot the best I’ve shot in a while at the archery range. Funny how a whole week off made me better.

I’m still not a fan of the concept of modern dating, but I am coming to terms with the playing field in regards to my success thus far. It can still all blow up in my face in multiple scenarios so there’s a lot of breathing going on. I probably should be sleep right now, but after watching The Lobster, I’m kind of fucked up, not gonna lie.

I’m a huge fan of black comedies and eerie, offbeat thriller-ish movies so I definitely got my fill with this flick. The premise is that single people get turned into animals of their choice after 45 days of being single. You get a partner, cool. You live in a sterilized, bullshit environment with your fake relationship. Problems? Here’s a child to fix it. Disgustingly accurate satire on that front.

The part that resonated with me the most was when Colin Farrell’s character faked as though he was a sadist to get with a true sadist so he wouldn’t get turned into an animal. More often than I care to admit, I see people trying to assimilate to others in order to be accepted.

This is especially dangerous in relationships as turning in to a Ditto for someone means there’s no space for “me.” As a podcast mentioned today, if you’re fucked up alone, getting with someone is only going to exacerbate the situation. I know a handful of people who fit this theme of “the best part of my life is my partner.”

What a sad fucking life. I’m sorry, but if those words every come out of my mouth, just shoot me. Because clearly I’ve been lobotomized during a trip to a foreign country with this person. Complements people, complements. Relationships should always be complements, not only compromises with a dash of coersion.

Going to ridiculous extremes in efforts to not be alone was my huge takeaway from the movie as well as realizing that not all sacrifices are worth it. But that’s another thing completely. The best question I could ever ask myself when faced with a romantic endeavor is: who will I be when this person is gone? Sure it’s morbid, but it’s realistic. Humans are finite, fickle, finicky, and fallible creatures of legend. Especially in the realm of modern dating, my word. Weak wills don’t last long and that’s a big contributor to these relationships people enter that are literally stop-gaps for that looming shadow of “being alone” that so many run from.

There’s a difference in being alone and being lonely. The former gets lumped in and misconstrued with the latter. You can be lonely with or without people around, that’s a fact. There’s plenty clowns out here lonely in relationships because they fear being alone. How fucked up is that? Being alone, conversely, that’s a place of power and resolve. Embracing being alone is strength incarnate. It’s heavily tied to the notion of “If you don’t love yourself, how can you expect anyone to love you at all?” Knowledge of self is the true start of any relationship, I don’t care who you are.

Life isn’t a time-bomb, but there’s a lot of alarm clocks along the way. It’s high time we, myself included, all stop hitting snooze for five more minutes of delusion when it’s time to get up. The last thing I want to do is oversleep on opportunity.