Doubts Even Here

[illusionofjoy]

I sometimes believe that I will never make a good polyamourist. Often, I'll consider my own shortcomings and quantify them in such a way that I can only conclude that the best I'll ever be able to hope for is being a slut. At worst, I'll be known as a common lecher, reviled by women everywhere.

The issue is jealousy, that incestuous cousin of envy. If you recall, that's one of the seven deadly sisters, each of which just happens to be yet another human frailty. All seven of these bitches dance mockingly within us, each one of them chanting, "avoid us, for we'll surely kill you." This is most probably the greatest Catch-22 in existence upon the human plane of consciousness.

At this point it is no secret as to what missjoi and I have been up to. It is not her who brings thoughts of jealousy and envy to my head at this time, nor do I think she ever could. She and I are both very aware of what the other is up to; what we effectively have is a very close friendship. Call it a relationship if you must, but be aware that the true definition of "relationship" is simply "the way in which two people interact with each other." I could say that I'm in a relationship with any number of people and not be intimately entangled with any of them. Common assumptions by the simple minds of the masses tend to interpret otherwise more often than not, however.

If what I am currently involved in must be defined by the word "relationship," then it is most definitely an open relationship; both of us are aware of what the other has been up to and can not claim to be bothered by the fact. Most people know what that means at this point, and have already drawn their own conclusions, assumptions and condemnations. As I've said a million times before: I honestly don't care what other people think at this point; mind your own business or be prepared to find yourself at the receiving end of my own unique flavour of condemnation.

So, if Joi is not causing me any jealousy or envy issues, then what is? To be honest: nothing and everything. That is to say that nothing in particular is bothering me, but quite simply the general condition of the majority of humanity with brief flashes of specific clarity. At times I get examples of why I am bothered, but these examples only frame why I am bothered overall, rather than painting the complete picture all at once. I wouldn't want to see the entire picture in one sitting anyhow - such a thing would likely drive me over the edge.

In one flash I saw a girl completely dumbstruck and in love with the stupid little lines she was being fed by her suitor. "I want to love you to little pieces," he was saying, "and then I'll love all the little pieces I've loved you to." Exactly what kind of wanky bullshit is that and what kind of girl falls for it?

Granted, I've dropped some bombs myself in the flirtatiousness department. Embarrassing clichés and hyperbole come with the territory. However, I've always believed that when push came to shove, I possessed some substance to back myself up and proved to be an individual with a sincerity (and IQ) that scored much higher than your average rock.

I guess my issue stems from the fact that I've been interested in girls before only to have them swept away from me by guys with dumb lines and pretty façades. These same guys only possess dumb lines and pretty façades, effectively being internally hollow. I've lost to such creatures before, and when one starts pursuing someone I've been after, my first inclination is to give up. Logically, the object of my desire should be drawn to the fact that I have more to offer than smoke and mirrors, but the traditional feminine alignment is not with logic, but emotions (you should know by now where to send hate male about "blatant sexist stereotypes"). Since I already know that my efforts are doomed, the logical course of action is for me to give up and pursue someone with greater returns. I know that it sounds cold to make such a statement, and I've wished that I could be that cold at times.

Instead, I usually try to compete, becoming increasingly angry and frustrated as my efforts get me nowhere. Once the shallow nemesis has won, I am left with nothing but resentment and an indignant glare for my efforts. Ultimately I end up hating them both - the guy for "winning" in the first place and the girl for making my judgements look poor. How does it reflect on me that I wasted valuable time pursuing someone who didn't want to build a relationship on a substantial foundation, in favour of a complete slimeball with little concrete to offer at the base? I think it reflects pretty badly on me, if anything.

Still, one could argue that not everything has to possess some deeper meaning - least of all relationships. Sometimes a fuck is just a fuck. I can understand that point of view. I think everyone involved should know that they are being fucked though, if that is the case.

It would appear that my big issue is those who don't know they are being fucked (literally or metaphorically) or are too involved in denying it or being shielded from it to realise that a fucking is occurring. Beauty in of itself contains little - if any - substance but there are those who would attempt to inject meaning into the meaningless in order to make themselves feel better about the situation they have thrust themselves into. This happens all the time! If nothing else, human beings are masters of self-delusion.

So, maybe I'm jealous and envious of the great illusionists of the world. These people have no other talents, so why should I begrudge them their acts of prestidigitation merely because I either don't perform as boldly or refuse to do so? Maybe deep down I am soft-hearted and hate to see certain people devoured by their own blindness...even if they may actually deserve it. The lessons of living can be a bitch at times.