I don't want to talk about this person, but I guess I will break my silence on her for this post. I wrote a couple of months ago that myself and this young woman I've written about since last Summer or thereabouts found ourselves at a crossroads. At this crossroads, I wrote, I would go my own way, and she could go hers. Boy, talk about prophecy. The coronavirus hit a couple of weeks later, and society as we knew it became all upside down and shutdown. One thing that went by the wayside became my tendency to patronize this young woman's place of employment at those times when she worked there. I've stopped doing that, to the point where I don't even know if this young woman works at this business anymore, or if she's enjoying good health or went down with the virus or whatever.
Whenever I do patronize this business, I perhaps sense a vibe from other female employees there. The vibe- and this could just exist in my head- the vibe seems to suggest that my decision to just walk away from that whole situation, especially at this time, makes me some kind of a son of a bitch. That's rich! I mean, in the types of situations I would typically find myself in with very attractive young women such as her, people would typically see me as the obsessive, crazy weirdo whose demonstrative desire to get with this type of young woman made me the stalker and the threat to her. So, I guess I'm damned if I do and damned if I don't.
So, I seem to have a choice between two polar extremes, with no middle ground. Either I'm the mentally ill, obsessive, weirdo bad guy who represents a threat of emotional and bodily harm to such a young woman as this, or I'm the cold, unloving, son of a bitch bad guy who abandons this young woman in her time of need. I see no middle ground, because of my addictive personality in regards to young women such as her, I see no middle ground with her any more than I see a middle ground between zero cigarettes a day versus two packs of cigarettes a day. I can't just smoke three to five cigarettes a day and leave it at that. No way.
So, if it's true that I have a choice of these two extremes, I will choose the son of a bitch path this time. Back in the Spring of 1990, at the School of Visual Arts in New York City, I unwittingly chose the obsessive weirdo path due to the belief that I'd made a serious mistake in letting Sara go in 1988. By the Spring of 1990, the obsessive weirdo path represented a familiar, well worn path for me. I counted quite a bit of experience under my belt on this path by that time. One thing I knew in my heart that those around me didn't know, lay in the prospect that the obsessive pursuit of my object of desire, in the case of the Spring of 1990 a fellow student I call Gwen, one thing I knew that those around me didn't know lay in the prospect that the pursuit of Gwen could resolve itself in a beautiful. life and love affirming transcendent moment where I demonstrated to Gwen and those around us that I represented no threat to her; that I just tried to love her as best as I knew how, and that included a pledge of honor on my part to not do her or myself any harm through that pursuit. That's when the nervous breakdown would typically happen.
Now, apparently, I'm on the son of a bitch path in regards to this young woman at this business I still patronize. In past blog posts I would demand that this young woman reach out to ME somehow, but I'm not making any such demands now. I'm just following my buddha on the son of a bitch path. Will I experience a type of breakthrough moment? Even in this time of coronavirus?
Whenever I do patronize this business, I perhaps sense a vibe from other female employees there. The vibe- and this could just exist in my head- the vibe seems to suggest that my decision to just walk away from that whole situation, especially at this time, makes me some kind of a son of a bitch. That's rich! I mean, in the types of situations I would typically find myself in with very attractive young women such as her, people would typically see me as the obsessive, crazy weirdo whose demonstrative desire to get with this type of young woman made me the stalker and the threat to her. So, I guess I'm damned if I do and damned if I don't.
So, I seem to have a choice between two polar extremes, with no middle ground. Either I'm the mentally ill, obsessive, weirdo bad guy who represents a threat of emotional and bodily harm to such a young woman as this, or I'm the cold, unloving, son of a bitch bad guy who abandons this young woman in her time of need. I see no middle ground, because of my addictive personality in regards to young women such as her, I see no middle ground with her any more than I see a middle ground between zero cigarettes a day versus two packs of cigarettes a day. I can't just smoke three to five cigarettes a day and leave it at that. No way.
So, if it's true that I have a choice of these two extremes, I will choose the son of a bitch path this time. Back in the Spring of 1990, at the School of Visual Arts in New York City, I unwittingly chose the obsessive weirdo path due to the belief that I'd made a serious mistake in letting Sara go in 1988. By the Spring of 1990, the obsessive weirdo path represented a familiar, well worn path for me. I counted quite a bit of experience under my belt on this path by that time. One thing I knew in my heart that those around me didn't know, lay in the prospect that the obsessive pursuit of my object of desire, in the case of the Spring of 1990 a fellow student I call Gwen, one thing I knew that those around me didn't know lay in the prospect that the pursuit of Gwen could resolve itself in a beautiful. life and love affirming transcendent moment where I demonstrated to Gwen and those around us that I represented no threat to her; that I just tried to love her as best as I knew how, and that included a pledge of honor on my part to not do her or myself any harm through that pursuit. That's when the nervous breakdown would typically happen.
Now, apparently, I'm on the son of a bitch path in regards to this young woman at this business I still patronize. In past blog posts I would demand that this young woman reach out to ME somehow, but I'm not making any such demands now. I'm just following my buddha on the son of a bitch path. Will I experience a type of breakthrough moment? Even in this time of coronavirus?
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