THE EXPERIMENT






Monday, Dec. 01, 2003 - 10:29 p.m.

TWITCH

I got up early this morning because of work which was a bit of a shock to my system because I have been off so long. As a result, I was dragging throughout the day in a near comatose state. Luckily, the stress of the busy-season is all behind me.

And so once again, I look at my life, at the amazing amount of freedom I have, at the same time continuously fighting to get out of some imaginary prison. It must be imaginary. I simply have too many things around me indicating that I am free. I am a single male in his late twenties. I have no problem paying my bills. I own my own house. Outside of work, I can do anything I want with my free time, so long as it does not get me in trouble. I am a friendly guy in great shape. In fact, as I read this stupid thing, I am starting to view my description as one of some type of homosexual. After all, what other guy in my situation would not have any semblance of a relationship with the opposite sex?

Unfortunately for me, I remain hopelessly heterosexual. Women attract me and men, for all sexual purposes, totally repulse me. But when I see what attracts me to women, it is as though I run into some sort of brick wall, a barrier that separates me from what attracts me to them and what attracts them to me. I simply cannot see past this wall. When I look into a woman’s eyes I cannot understand what I see. I cannot sense whether she is attracted to me or not. All I can see is her calculating mind wondering what I am thinking, ready to make the next move to thwart any advance I make. What frightens me further is this look of confusion in her eyes when she looks into mine, as though she has seen something she has yet to encounter in meeting a person, as though she sees right through my surface appearance right into the dark chasm of unfathomable isolation that fills my core. And in a twitch of her pupil, I see her recoil in horror because she knows she has seen something she will never understand.

Such are the emotional nuances to which my hypersensitive brain is constantly reacting and causing likewise reaction in return. Perhaps I am simply over-analyzing as the unoccupied mind is the devil’s tool shed. However, I must be careful not to dwell too much on the delicate ballroom dance of mutual attraction until I actually get on the dance floor. I have yet to even go to the party. I could not get invited because basically no one knows I exist. I must find ways to get known so that I will find my name on the invitation list.

I have ideas in mind, but they involve effort and energy that are in short supply when I am dragging on days like this. Now that it is Christmas season, I wince at the idea that I will be alone for my twenty-eighth New Year’s Eve in a row. That evil physical therapist already gave me a taste of the wonder drug when I saw the fireworks display on July 4th, and it is too damn painful for me to realize I will go without it when the fireworks kick off 2004.

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