Larry Daviding (yeeting) People Away

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Colors are bursting from my heart today. I rely on this color, shaping my world and giving me help. When my inner motivation isn't there, I feel myself drowning and can't be the man I want to be. I want to be consistent, but sometimes just doing my taxes or buying new shirts to replace my torn-button shirts is the biggest effort. And I know I only have myself to blame. I tell myself not to be so hard on myself, but all I can do is imagine better versions of myself that I'm failing to be. 

Are my expectations too high? Or am I just a lazy piece of shit? I think this question stems from not feeling loved enough. And I have plenty of friends who love me deeply. So I guess it's not that I'm not objectively loved enough but that I don't feel loved enough. I probably just need to go out with friends more, but when I get home after working my ass off, all I want to do is chill with an unhealthy snack and watch TV. Why are my base tendencies such a far cry from the man I want to be? And even at my best, I find myself disappointed in myself. I could've done more in that workout, I tell myself. I could've done more at work and placed more calls to more customers. 

Self-congratulation feels fake too, even though I know it's a helpful tactic. Congratulating myself for the small things feels like silliness, fakeness. And authenticity is all I live for anymore. Hell that's why I bore people with this blog. I hope to share some shred of something real.

The truth is that my heart is full of love, a love so deep and sensitive that it terrifies me. I sometimes look at my dog after wiping his eye boogers and know deep down that he will die within the next 12 years tops. That scares me and brings me to tears frequently. So I try to make his every day as good as it can be. I feel sad when I don't take him to play with his doggy friends, or when I imagine horrifying scenarios where he runs into the road and gets hit by a car. How tf am I supposed to raise an actual kid if I'm so terrified raising my dog? 

I guess doing what's scary is what defines humanity. It's what makes a man a man. Not doing random scary shit like the movie Jackass, but scary stuff that actually makes me progress as a human (Hu-Man, some Latin etymology someone knows about?). I love you, reader, not because you're loveable, but because loving others I don't know makes me feel good. Understand I wish I could love selflessly, but that's just never how life plays out. 

There's no certainty or perfection in this world, but this new Justin Bieber album is pretty good. There's no pure happiness, but Impractical Jokers makes me laugh. I can't find the love of my life, but going on little dates gives me momentary happiness. Life is full of misery and also little moments, little moments that keep us moving forward, that keep shit meaningful. Because without these moments, there would be nothing. Here. At all. Just the empty grave to fall into with a tall glass of mint julip. 

I hope someday my writing becomes less depressing. I hope someday I become less depressed and let my loving heart speak more freely. I hope I let myself be seen with all my awkwardness and weirdness. So often I close off because I'm just fucking scared. I'm scared no one will like me if I'm my true self. I'm scared I'll Larry David people away from me. Gawd I love him.

This blog is stupid, right? But it makes me feel meaningful. Me. Writing right now with my poor grammar, makes me feel okay. It's my coping mechanism. I'm getting it out. I'm self-expressing. It's my best attempt at vulnerability, because sometimes real life vulnerability is just too scary for me. Is everyone else okay while I'm not? Or are we all in this boat of whatever trying to do whatever we can to find something, not even knowing what we're looking for?

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