I’m only 26 and think ‘Man, how was I ever 18 years old?’ I
thought I knew it all, I was and still am an idiot, sure, I’m a better version
than before but that’s experience, we do learn from our mistakes in most cases
but then you can’t teach an old dog new
tricks or in my case you can’t teach
a lazy dog anything! If you’re not naturally gifted at something what do
you? You work at it; you slog your guts trying to get better and for what? Happiness, have we even figured out what
that is yet?!
That age old question of what would you do if you could go
back?! I mean I’m single, live at home and have a meaningless job I hate: a summation of my life in one singular term
would be floundering, but if I knew
then what I knew now? I wouldn’t
have stuck in at school; I would
have stuck in at college, went to university and got a degree, if not for
anything other than superiority and to not be considered second class to
somebody’s beloved wonder child with their honours in photography!
It seems to be frowned upon that you be single in your mid-twenties,
one can only imagine how horrendous and condescending people must become if
you’re 30 plus. The problem is two-fold; now that I know how to be upfront and
honest and tell a girl I like her and would like to take her out there aren’t many girls who meet my
exceedingly ridiculous standards (a
gorgeous girl who loves video games, sex and doesn’t mind my constant sarcastic
remarks and me laughing at them and explaining them if she doesn’t get them),
and the biggest problem being that most lovely well-adjusted demi-goddess’ tend to be taken or bound
by a gold plated Chinese finger-trap.
I’m not stupid enough to be happy or smart enough to do
anything amazing with my life but I’m not an idiot, a pseudo-intellectual/idiot savant, I have a job of reasonable income
and I have a car and I can even stay out as late as I want. On paper I’m
boyfriend material but in practice at 26 years old I’m seeing the signs of old
age creeping up on me; being told I
dress ‘too young’ for my age by
younger colleagues, finding more grey hairs with each passing second and
laughter lines leaving their mark, what’s an unskilled average guy to do?
Women say there are no good men left, I profess a change:
there are no great men left.
There’s an abundance of good men; hardworking, honest, caring
men, but they’re not ripped and don’t
have bank accounts that have more digits than your telephone number. TV has
ruined mine and your expectations of love, we’ll never meet a bus stop, I won’t
be your shoulder to cry on until you realise I’m the one and I won’t be
interrupting your wedding to confess my undying love or how I touch myself in
your honour… Fuck you Hugh Grant, Julia Roberts and the movie industry, you’ve
made more unrealistic expectations of love than Disney and the Kama Sutra combined.
I’m only 26, in theory I’m not even half way through but if
my quarter century plus one has taught me anything is that happiness is an
illusion and life’s main purpose is distraction; TV, internet, video games, and
hell even sport! Just distract yourself from your pitiful blip in the annals of
time and get on with it, you can be the champion of the world but you’ll never
truly be remembered, Joe Bloggs won’t know any more than your name, face and
respective accomplishments but he’ll never know you, no one will remember your true essence.
Outlook: Bleak.
But hey, you’re an animal with survival instincts and
chances are your brain will fight off the thoughts of suicide and replace them
with cravings for cake, sex and the latest Call of Duty… It ain’t all bad!
A guy’s gotta eat.
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