Moving, if Not On...

I must have realized it then. She did not CARE about whether it was that I was wrong or she; she only cared about how I had made her feel. Irrespective of my motives, and with absolutely no respect for my role within the Group, a group assembled for one common purpose, she defied my will. Yet she had no right to do this. This was not some vehicle for her own interests any more so than it was for mine. I would not be condemned to that burden, and neither would I allow her to bear it. It is true that my troubled experience had imbibed in me the notion that a man can only trust his own conscience in any group. But this was supposed to have been a group of FRIENDS and ENTHUSIASTS, not conformists. How then could she hold it against US that I had obligated her to CONFORM in the interest of the Common Good, when we had all ready been established as trustworthy authorities?? It’s not as though I would have turned against this group, as she did, at the moment that I might be outvoted. All night I asked repeatedly for confirmation. But this autistic retard seemed to believe that I was supposed to read her PASSIVE AGGRESSION in place of a justifiable argument. And wherefore was this the case? How did the sociopathic leech imagine that my “failure” to read a social cue was evidence for social maladaptation on MY part? I literally had the OBLIGATION to withhold my own projections until affirmation for my suspicions, reasoned and orderly, arrived. And it only came after I had all but DEMANDED it, and without apology for having been withheld hitherto. Who gave her the right to withhold this information from her fellows, if it was the Truth? And her immediate instinct was to CONTRADICT me when I ASSURED that slug that I had had no interest whatsoever in controlling the situation. If she is so DAMNED sympathetic to her PARENTS, WHY then would she ignore what I don’t doubt they would have taught her, as all parents should: that situations NEED TO BE controlled for the Common Good, and for that reason you must comply with the wishes of your fellows, insofar as they prove equally compliant, that you might spare others the BURDEN of being forced to control you?

I did not sleep that night. I would have approached the group nearby, my eye set on a delightful black-haired specimen with an ostensibly generic-looking boyfriend. All of a sudden, however, two things happened when my false friend vocalized her schizotypal delusions: I felt myself to be in the presence of an In-Group that was nonetheless devoid of purpose and only provided shelter for a schizophrenic from the Out-Group. It was at this moment that I recognized within me most palpably the longing to escape into that Other Group. I realized that I had no intention of stealing that man’s girl. If she should happen to become my friend, and if they should part in my favour, it would not have been a betrayal on my part but an extension of kindness. I would have by then assessed her boyfriend’s character and decided upon whether his interests were mine or alien, for in such times as these one must draw that line frequently, and one cannot betray a man who never was a formal friend. I had the perfect pitch, too: I was in the company of actors. It was at this same Diner that I had met these actors, and just as easily upon a whim. Yet at that moment I felt at once a drive to prove my loyalty to the Human Slug that sat at my left hand and to clear my name of all ill motives ascribed to me, ensuring that my example would be followed. With pain I watched the black apple of my eye, with her petite physique and her upturned nose, leave the table beside her own companions. I took notice of her buttocks, their figure exposed by the white pants, and I for once had to confess to myself that I too admired the female figure, even at its basest level.

I did not sleep that night. Today I lumbered into the Book Store and cracked open “After Virtue” by Alasdair MacIntyre. The dry Capricorn Scotsman was the Father That I Never Had. I deplored him, but only in character. In truth I saw so much of myself in his every nuance. I was all ways capable of justifying my ostensibly self-interested behavior because I actually HAD values that were so nuanced and complicated and such a Herculean task to balance that they required constant analysis and revision before and after the fact. But these bitches did not care. They only wanted a member of the pack, and not a leader interested in Human Solidarity. The moment that I tried to lead them, they accused me. The moment that I defied them, they felt their accusations to be validated, for they found sufficient fault with me to condemn me for defying the pack in both my attempts to lead and in my attempts to transcend by seeking preferable company outside of it. If I rejected the accusation of ill will the second time, I was dispossessed of the right to have “accused” the first time. If I rejected the first accusation, making it clear that it was never my intention to accuse, but that I had to now that they had behaved so antisocially and with such depraved cowardice, I was dismissed and disbelieved.

I would have deserved the woman in the white pants.

There is a reason that I did not sleep this last night.

It is called the Anniversary Effect.

It was three years ago upon a Sunday that I lost my Light of Love. She died by the same diabolical device.

And all I could do when I set down MacIntyre and picked up Astrology was to look up Scorpio. Even when I flipped through Pisces, my own SIGN, I was not so thorough. I guess it’s true how self-effacing we are. After all: my very BIRTHDAY is this Saturday. I turn twenty-seven years of age. And I am still a virgin. And I am letting some delusional entrepreneur’s all-but-underage girlfriend call my shots with a passive aggressive pout. I tried to fall asleep when I got home. But I could not manage it. I could only drift in daydreams, tormented and depressed to the point all most of tears that I had taught myself to never shed, disillusioned and triggered all at once. How can any one tell me to move on when nothing changes? All my enemies are still alive. My most beloved friends are dead or dispossessed, with only a few exceptions. And Society does not even reward me for either my patience nor my chastity. How dare that scum accuse me of self-interest as though the World revolved around HER, and not the lot of us? Why should I ever accommodate HER when I know her behavior all ready to be in error? What right has she earned to complain? None.

And all that grates my ears is that voice in my head: you did not get what YOU wanted. As though I had not EARNED yet the love of a woman. As though I’d not EARNED the Moral High Ground. As though my ongoing chastity were not a testament to my beneficent intent. As though I could not seek the fulfillment of my own bodily needs and spiritual attainment with some sense of TACT. And as though to insult me at a time such as this were not all most as egregious a crossing of boundaries, especially when I am IN THE ACT OF SERVICE TO THE COMMON GOOD, as was the series of betrayals and abuses that I have spent the first seven years of my twenties trying to recover from. No THEORETICAL ill will or selfishness on my part could justify an ACTUAL abuse; no one has the right to be that paranoid out of MERE self-defense. I seldom if ever was. Much I tolerated before I cut any cord or burnt any bridge. And it is neither ill will nor selfishness to seek one’s own fulfillment once it is overdue. Even less so is it to make the noble sacrifice of one’s own individuality for some sense of solidarity under a Beneficent, Established Cause. Ill will is only at the DELIBERATE and UNJUSTIFIED EXPENSE of an other; either accidental expense or justifiable expense do not count. And the latter is only justifiable if it is all ready in the spirit of redressing a grievance, and only at the expense of the wrongdoer, and in proportion to not only the wrongdoing but the NEED of the aggrieved. No human being would allow others to be disadvantaged only to prevent pain to his or herself. If they WOULD inflict pain to himself or herself, he or she is only justified insofar as he likewise prevents their pain, for it is possible they don’t INTEND to inflict harm at all, and that what the witness perceives to be a threat to his or her well-being is in fact only available to perceive by avenue of the same would-be assailant’s generosity of trust. Yet all theoretical distinctions of ill will and good will become unequivocal at the moment of ACTION. When a coward betrays its friends, this is known, and it is unjustified. And I never did that.

So that is perhaps why these are the only warnings that the book on Astrology gave me: to avoid escapism (which is never in the Reasoning of MacIntyre so much as in the cynicism in his spite that tries to justify so many other forms of escape), to avoid Bad Company, and to avoid Negative Moods.

I deserve better. And I will never again allow those who prioritize their own feelings OVER mine to darken my doorstep. If they cannot reconcile their passions with a Common Good, then that is THEIR failing and THEIR inferiority to me. I am not so blind that I would not perceive it. My feelings are never of lesser import than any other’s. And this import is Absolute. My happiness cannot be less important TO any one, least of all those close to me. It simply IS. And I vow to prioritize it. That, at least, is the Loving response to my predicament. If I chose Death over Love, my own Death would not top my list, but rather that of those who all ready tried to place themselves before me. Yet I feel that soon I shall move beyond the need to desire vengeance. It was only ever a service to those who betrayed me and all ready died because of it, through no fault of my own.

Dm.A.A.