“I think anybody who falls in love is a freak. It’s a crazy thing to do. It’s kind of like a form of socially acceptable insanity.” – Her
I’d like to alter the above quote from the brilliant movie ‘Her’ – I think that interacting with other humans romantically or sexually is, like alcohol, a socially acceptable (and more so than that, encouraged) form of drug use.
As I’ve entered my 30′s and make no indication that finding a mate is even on my mind at all (besides using it as catalyst for endless opportunities to write), I’ve been treated to hearing my mother’s worries about why I’m not with someone. She told me to not wait until I’m 40 to try and find a girlfriend or I’ll have no idea how to deal with a woman.
I’m thinking, ‘How the hell is that my problem?’
It’s indicative of the social pressure put on both human beings to have someone to be normal and males to take the lead. I find it hysterical that there is a booming industry based entirely on teaching males how to conform and adapt to the way they’re supposed to be in order to be attractive to women. Across the globe, men are shelling out tons of their hard earned money in order to take pick-up classes that demystify the pursuit of those with vaginas. Where’s the class that teaches women how to deal with me?
How To Date Jason Ellsworth: Lesson One – Shutting the Fuck Up While Hip-Hop is Playing
It is, of course, an idea that can be looked at as nothing but comedy, but I think it nicely shows my disinterest with having to be a certain way in order to attract attention. I don’t care what women want. Females have been ruining my life since 7th grade, the year when that annoying and utterly useless piece of flesh that dangles between my legs decided to pop its own sexual version of mushrooms and become conscious, endlessly tormenting me with its stupid, primal desires.
Before then all I needed was lots of toys and my imagination. Then all of a sudden girl’s breasts start popping out and now I’m shuffled into the ‘geek’ category for not having the skills to convince one of them to let me touch them. Ever since then, a stigma has hung over me and anyone else who hasn’t taken this mandatory rite of passage. Ever since then I’ve had to deal with the question, ‘Why don’t you date?’, as if the answer wasn’t blindingly obvious to anyone who’s had the experience of diving into the terrifying pool of human interaction.
It’d be one thing if I had a choice. I chose to start doing drugs. I chose to come to Los Angeles and pursue a career in entertainment. But, contrary to the belief of religious fucktards, sexuality isn’t a choice. Rather, it is biological terrorism as puberty kicks in hard and makes you have less of a shot of escaping a drooling addiction to these things than a newborn crack baby. Why should I look at my urge for sex and romance as any different than my urge to take a shit? They’re both things that, as a human, I simply can’t avoid.
This isn’t misogyny. This is just the rant of a man who’s tired of being looked at as a freak for actually wanting to get clean. They all applaud when I say I’m going to stop smoking marijuana, and yet look at me sad, confused and doubtful when I say I want nothing to do with women. But why? Trust me when I say I’ve seen friends throughout the years for whom the lust for women, either hook ups or relationships, is a real problem, and, furthermore, I promise you that you’ve never experienced anything like the peace I get from entirely dismissing the whole pursuit altogether.
As Mr. Marley once said, ‘No woman, no cry.’ And besides, if I am going to go running into the arms of something, I’d much rather have it be Bob’s muse, the sweet Mary Jane, than a female.
After all, the blunt doesn’t make me prove that I’m confident enough before it lets me hit it.