Run Away and Hide

Wow, man - another "new" author for me to devour.

Recent discoveries - Jim Harrison, Margaret Atwood, Larry McMurtry, and now.................

David Baldacci.

I know, they've all been around forever. What do you want from me? I am reclusive by choice - I don't want anything to do with any other humans (assuming I'm human, which is quite a stretch). So new information from outside contacts is limited.

Brief aside: Obviously every human sucks, every human is narrow-minded and selfish. The only way I can survive human "interaction" is to limit communication to the barest minimum. I started this a while back and was somewhat happy with the results. I try not to offer information about my life, and I try to limit responses to peoples' comments to the fewest possible words.

But I have found that being human is an aching thing - I keep slipping and talking about my life................and getting ignored, no connection, no empathy, as the idiot listener only wants to talk about themself, and doesn't give a good goddamn fuck about me. Not no way, not no how.

So fuck 'em. Yesterday I really pushed it - I suppressed any natural instinct to add anything to a conversation. When my mind made a connection and prompted me to speak, I didn't. And I refused to give the speaker what they wanted, which was validation of their worth (fucking joke). I didn't agree or disagree. 

It was fanfuckingtastic. Many awkward silences, which is what people deserve. Awkward silences, embarrassment, reproach, rejection. When I perfect this approach, I will be happy.

Back to the matter at hand: Obviously I was aware that McMurtry and Baldacci existed, and Atwood became knowm to me due to the hype over A Handmaid's Tale on tv. Jim Harrison walked the earth without my knowledge.

McMurtry died in 2021, Harrison in 2016. Bummer.

The sheer number of "new" books that are now available for me to consume is staggering. And who the fuck could have predicted I'd find tasty "new" authors to read at the tail end of my life? You do settle into a groove, you know. It is comforting, limits conflict, and minimizes anxiety. New things are bad.

These authors could save my life. As I slip into the worlds they created, I will forget all of my problems. I will eliminate anxiety and find peace of mind. Self-loathing will fade away and I will love myself. I will naturally find a way to earn mountains of money and buy security with it. I will finally retire.

BULLSHIT! Nothing can save me. NOTHING!

All I can do is run away and hide.