I struggle to make myself give a shit about life. About my future career, my sex life, my health, my happiness. I find myself hard-pressed to care.
But god help me when I see generic shitbirds surpassing me in shit I’m supposed to be good at. A guy who watches sports for fun having a better academic record in a more difficult course. A guy who tweets about this sick kegger bro walking around with a beautiful, intelligent girlfriend. A guy whose idea of fun is getting blind-drunk at the beach and somehow drives a more expensive car than I do.
I refuse to sit here mired in bitterness while the rest of the world has fun. I am completely unable to maintain and justify a cynical outlook if everyone else is happy. I cannot stoke my narcissistic defense mechanism if the fuckwits who kicked the shit out of me in school are doing better than I am. My talent and potential means nothing if it is confined to the possibilities of what I could have done, would have done, should have done. The only way I can live with their success is if they have to live with the fact that, even though they did good, I did better.
At the very least, I won’t sit here overcome with sexual frustration while there are guys wearing tapout shirts and flip-flops still getting laid.