A Man Possessed

For the most part, today was a good day. However, there was one rather interesting conversation that was sort of thrust onto the table and forced me to take more of an introspective look at myself. I couldn't ignore it and pretend it didn't happen as I could if daddy hit mommy at the dinner table.

Right around the time the spring rolls came out, I was subjected to some sidewalk lunchtime psycho-analysis. Psychology. Finger pointing. Whatever it is you want to call it. Either way, personal/love life choices were thrown in front of a moving train.

It's not as if I'm not fully aware that my life is a seemingly endless revolving door of completely meaningless sexual conquests and relationships. I'm not ashamed to admit it. Period. Yet, having someone who was so close to me look at this and then come out claiming that I'm filling some sort of an emotional void or preventing myself from ever actually caring about someone kind of shocked me.

Not because it's not true, but because she called me on it.

Having someone call you on your bullshit is always a shock to your system. It's a shock, but a needed shock. I don't know how I'm going to take this. I mean, where do I go? I'm already trying to walk down the street called celibacy. Admittedly, I've made a lot of pitstops along the way, but I'm trying.

Whatever. My computers background is a picture of a Pirate punching a little girl in the face. It's glorious.