I don’t know about this (see the second to the last paragraph.) I think that, over time, irrational behavior is increasingly irrational, and rational behavior becomes irrational. (Entropy always wins.) In the end, it’s all meaningless chaos. Or as Douglas Adams put it (in my quite oblique interpretation of his quote):
But I digress.
You wanna know something completely hilarious? I have been advised by many a female that I would probably attract more chicks if I were more of an asshole.
I am a bitter, bitter man.
I really like that quote: Unanswered phone rings are the sound of rejection.
Rejection. You would think that at this point in time, I would be completely used to it. But instead, it belies my whole belief that human beings can get used to anything. Although, as they say (I have no idea what it means, really), that the exception proves the rule.
I, sir, am rambling. Whatever. Who the hell cares?
Also: closure is overrated. Sometimes it’s better to just pick yourself up from the impact crater 1,2, dust yourself off, and make a clean start. I may be pessimistic, but I can’t help but feel that for every loose end you tie off, at least five to seven more will come unraveled. Fucked up situations are like a hydra. Lop one head off, and more come to grow in their place. Sometimes the only thing you can realistically do is to cut your losses and move on.
To quote Chris Rock (again, another tangential reference): “They say life is short. No it’s not. Life is long. Especially if you choose the wrong person.”
I’m sure we’d all like to have clean consciences, but a lot of people withhold forgiveness for ridiculous reasons. And, believe me, it’s much easier to deal with your own insanity and your own guilty conscience than to have to deal with someone else’s insanity, and trying to plead for forgiveness from them.
And sometimes, just because they say they’ve forgiven you, doesn’t mean that they have. These are the anvils that people will hold over you, just for some measure of control. The veritable sword of Damocles, hanging by a thread. And then when the going gets rough, all sorts of neuroses and psychoses take to the field.
Not that I advocate giving up on reconciliation. But, just like everything, it becomes a cost-benefit analysis.
Somethings are just not meant to be.
We hurt the ones we love the most.
But I can’t seem to convince myself that there’s more to life than love.
To quote Charles Bukowski (I keep having these loose associations in my head):
As I’ve said before (though rather unconvincingly), there are worse things in life than being alone.
That’s what I tell myself so I can sleep at night, at least.