My Dear Friend Camus Girl,
It tortures me that you cannot be my mate. That is all that I will say on this subject. I am drunk and very depressed and it's in my best interests to shut the fuck about my longing for you.
I am seriously considering stopping dating. A beautiful 36 year old wrote me yesterday. I don't think I will write her back. What would be the point? I'm just an unemployed fuck-up on [UNDISCLOSED]. How do I skirt around this issue? I think I had a panic attack before a date last week. I don't want to have another. Physically it takes too much out of me.
I had my first softball game today in at least five years. I hate playing softball. It makes me horribly anxious. I worry now that it will give me a panic attack. I severely wigged trying to find the field, was an hour late, missed batting practice and didn't play too well. I play the game to symbolically demonstrate to the world how inferior it is to me. I am a better athlete than these people. It is a form of payback. It is me saying fuck you to the universe, you're not better than me. The world has succeeded in giving me inferior social status but I cannot resist any opportunity to show the world that I can kick its fucking ass if the playing field is leveled. All of this payback comes at a tremendous cost of anxiety and stress. But I feel compelled to torture myself in order to pay this fucking bastard universe back for beating me down.
I didn't go to sleep until five a.m. because I looked at some of the blog party photos and got angry and thought about my life and became frustrated:
Look at this photo:
[UNDISCLOSED PHOTO OF BLOG PARTY WOMEN]
[UNDISCLOSED] is the second woman on the right. This is the larger-than-life [UNDISCLOSED] who looks like a movie star with her professionally shot photos in her FC profile. In real life she's just an ordinary middle-aged woman with a sagging right breast hanging out of her dress. Don't get me wrong about [UNDISCLOSED] -- I can see in her writing that she possess enormous wit, writing talent, and I'm quite sure that she is brilliant. This is the only person in the entire blog community that I really had any desire to meet, because of her rare intelligence and beauty -- though now it would only be for her intelligence. She is not ugly. She is a perfectly good-looking middle-aged woman, yet not larger than life in terms of physical beauty. Physically she is an ordinary mortal, just like me. Intellectually I suspect she is larger than life. There is something very special about her that I can see in her writing. It reeks of intelligence. She is the exception. Nobody else in the blog community possesses anything special that I can gather from the way they write.
I thought I would be hurt by looking at these photos of all the bloggers having fun, while I remained uninvited. But I could quite honestly tell you that I am not hurt, only angered that they think they are too good for me. Looking at these photos I see a bunch of middle-aged losers, who have lives so small that they must fill the void by traveling the country to petty, exclusive blog parties. These people will have no significant impact on the world. They will live and die and be forgotten. In the grand scheme of things they have won in life no more and no less than I have, it is only self-deception and group-think that they are the winners and I am the loser. The blog community is comprised of the same cool kids in school that didn't invite me into their little clique. But now I see that the cool kids really aren't nearly as cool as I thought they were. In fact they are rather pathetic. They are not 1/10 as cool as I am. I am not being defensive. I really believe this.
I think I will stop posting on Bad Sumo. That place will shrivel up and die without me, and if not it will certainly become the most boring place in the universe. I may even publish this letter to you on my blog. I don't see how I owe anyone in the blog community any allegiance. You're either with me or you're against me. I tried to be nice. I bent over backward to make peace, but what I got in return is more exclusion. I have disdain for their petty collective. Let them fuck themselves with that knowledge. I will not de-friend them, but, with very few exceptions, I want nothing more to do with them.
I am so sorry that you must endure seeing those poor young women with their self-mutilated bodies. This would really disturb me. I don't believe I would be able to look at this on a daily basis and maintain my sanity.
I may have lost my $300 Ray Bans today. I'm too drunk and it's too dark to find them. Fuck me!
-Ed
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