Drunken Philosophy

About four weeks ago I came home drunk.  The sort of drunk that makes the recollection of details near impossible.  I had recently been rejected by my long time crush (another story), and I was talking with a friend about a mutual friend and his hookups.  My self esteem was low, my defenses were token, and it came out that the mutual friend had hooked up with one of the Korean teachers at my school.  My crush is a Korean teacher.  My liquor sodden brain came to the sudden realization that however unlikely it is that she is the one, it was possible that this mutual friend had hooked up with my crush - who had recently rejected me. I pressed my friend for information.  Who was it?  Not that it matters at all, and the mutual friend isn't here anymore, but, really.  Who?  It's OK to tell me.

He wouldn't, and I managed to keep my composure long enough to say goodbye.

In my apartment I collapsed into jealous rage, just controlled enough to keep me from screaming.  After pacing and talking out loud for a few minutes, trying desperately to throw the drunkenness off so I could manage my emotions comfortably, I turned to my previously most successful therapist.  Writing.  I decided not to limit myself, not to worry about punctuation or clarity, just to get my thoughts out and see what came out.

While most of it was just rehashing of things I had already said to myself in the past or descriptions of sexuality designed to incite me, while simultaneously chastising myself for permitting myself the weakness of jealousy, (Sidenote: Jealousy to me is a feeling of ownership and right.  You cannot have ownership of a human being or their time, you cannot by right expect a behavior or action from another person, and that is jealousy.) there was one particularly insightful section that I wrote.

Here it is, errors preserved with names altered:

And the thing that kills me is that it’s entirely possibl that it’s (my crush).  I don’t give a shit if it’s any other teacher, but(my crush) would destroy me.  If I accept it as truth, which I can’t at this moment because there is no evidence, it would mean admitting that there is no excuse for me to hide behind in (my crush) not wanting to kiss me.  None whatsoever.  It isn’t because she’s Korean and prudish, because she fucked one of the other foreigners (so even if she is prudish, she made an exception which was not me which is also insulting).  It means that she wasn’t just delaying a possibility... 

If I accept as truth that this woman who rejected me hooked up with somebody else, somebody close to me socially (or not), then I have nothing to hide behind.

How profound a realization.  I had thought of a hundred reasons why she may have said no.  I had analyzed it from a dozen different angles, I had tried to think of it only as a factual interaction (I asked, she said no), but the truth was staring me in the face.  If she had hooked up with another person (any other person, ever), then I had no excuse to hide behind for her rejection of me.

Every thought regarding the interaction was a barrier I threw up between myself and reality.  The reality that she just doesn't want me the way I want her. The reality that I would feel a serious decline in self worth if it were true that there were no extenuating circumstance to her rejection of my advances.  That it wasn't the method of the advances she was rejecting, their timing, or even the situation they came during.  But that she was rejecting me.  The reality that I as a person was either incompatible with her, and she could see it and acted accordingly, or that I as a person was not enough for her to consider worthy.  The reality that the choice and reasoning are hers, and no amount of tears or shaken fists gives me a right to demand an alternative.

In order to avoid all of this I put up every conceivable barrier.  I asked advice from male and female friends.  I searched for every available escape from reality and eventually chalked it up to my inability to know the truth.  Where this brought me was proper, considering my actions and thoughts.  Drunk, needy, alone, wallowing in self pity.

She rejected me.  The proper response is action, not rationalization and analysis.  If I still want her, I can invest in myself and work my hardest to become worthy both in my own eyes and hers.  If I decide I do not want her, then I can move on.  These are the only proper actions I can take.

Achieving life is not the same as avoiding death.

The title above is quoted from Ayn Rand.

Something about the way that woman thinks and writes just speaks to me on an entirely different level. I get upset every time I find something regarding philosophy that lists any number of philosophers from Aristotle to Kant and they don't even leave a mention of Ayn Rand.  It's a crime.  I feel about her writing how some Christians must feel about the bible - I've read this, there is no need to go further.  Truth has a certain flavor and I find it so much to my liking that the taste of anything else is bitter and forgettable.

I am in the midst of a dry spell.  It's been approximately four months in the making and I'm suffering for it, and this weekend was the most obvious sign of that.  I went out with a group of friends to a "classy" party in downtown Seoul.  A strictly black tie event at a swanky resort.  It was great going into it, I was enjoying my group and having fun.  But when they herded us all into a nightclubish area, I found my social vibe just disappeared.  All around me there were beautiful women who I would have enjoyed talking to (one adorable Korean creature in particular) and I could not muster the state to approach anybody.

The night even seemed to tip me small favors and I still couldn't commit to even a weak interaction (I had been walking around, going to the bathroom again and again, doing whatever I could think of to try and break my mood short of actually talking to somebody).  I went outside at one point and the exact girl I'd been eyeing all night was sitting alone having a cigarette with her shoes off, alone and bored looking.  She clearly wasn't having the best night either (probably because her high heels were making enjoying dancing a serious challenge).  And all I could must was to sit next to her, pretend to check my phone, then ask if she minded if I left my jacket next to her (only implying that it was her job to keep it safe).  Then walked off to have a three minute fake conversation on my cell phone, hoping the time away would give me the state needed to actually speak to her, and also have a more natural approach after I sat next to her in silence for the first couple minutes.  Of course it didn't.  I walked back, picked up my jacket, thanked her, and went back inside.  Later there were more opportunities, perfect approach openings, and I just left it.

I'd realized I had hit rock bottom when the unnattractive female in my group was talking to me about how she felt about how this had turned into a "typical club experience" and how she wasn't into that.  Clearly rationalizing her discomfort with the situation.  Knowing I felt the same, and knowing how I felt about her value, I saw little reason to stick around.  So I said my goodbyes and got out of there.

Today I felt low-self-esteemy almost all day, but managed to quit Skyrim long enough to go for a bike ride and find some food.  It ended up being a good idea, I enjoy biking through the city and I had a good meal.  Then, a girl who is decent looking and I wouldn't have minded banging called me up.  She does that now and then.  I've texted her like once per week, and she never responds, then she'll call me out of the blue and invite me out.  Anyway she asked me to meet her, so I did and she was with another dude.  He ended up being really cool so we all had a good vibe going, but he had to leave around 11.  She gave him a hug and kept saying how he should stay because he could stay with her (clearly wanted to bang him, but I was thinking "yeah but why did she call me then") and it wouldn't be a problem.  But he left.  So I figured, "We've all been talking about sex all night, she knows what I'm about and she's having drinks with me alone now...game on."  So I decided not to waste any time.  About 5 minutes after he left I tried a late game version of the apocolypse opener and asked her what she was doing later.  Then followed with, "want to come home with me instead?"  And she made me clarify that I was talking about hooking up and not just hanging out.  Long story short, she said no.  I felt bummed.  Walked her to the train station then headed home.

I was feeling bad about myself, then something just snapped.  I picked up a pen and a stack of sticky notes and wrote in giant letters, one on each note, "BECOME WORTHY OF A SELF.  EARN IT." And posted it above my door in my apartment.  I debated on my use of the article "a" instead of saying "your".  But I think I made the right choice.  The idea of saying "your" presupposes that I have a self, and that it is worthy and I'm not living up to it.  But the fact of the matter is, the way I've been feeling and behaving is more in line with a person who is lacking in a self.  A firm one, at least.  And so I made my grammar choice.

I remembered a blogger/musician/artist I had discovered some time ago and was inspired enough to look her up.  Sarah Saturday.  On her archive of short posts I ran across one from Ayn Rand, "Whenever you think you are facing a contradiction, check your premises.  You will find that one of them is wrong."  It wasn't so much that quote that brought me around to feeling good, but the fact that somewhere out there is a mind that appreciates something I appreciate.  Somebody who sees the value in something I value.  And knowing that that person exists, and that that person also believes in taking care of herself and in EARNING IT HERSELF, gives me the strength I need to stop being such a bitch.

I bitch and moan that I haven't been with a woman for awhile, and I realize that it's becoming a self esteem issue - I need somebody, not just to fuck, but to appreciate me (and this is easiest to find after sex).  But what have I done in the last four months that's worthy of appreciation, apart from being?  Pussies and shit philosophers say that's enough, but Ayn rand tells it true.  Achieving life is NOT the equivalent of avoiding death, and all I've been doing is avoiding death.  Living day to day, decently but not well and certainly not doing anything worthy of being called achieving life.

I dearly hope that this feeling will stay with me.  I know it won't. I'll have to go after it, grab it by the hair and drag it back to my man cave.  But the most insidious thing about this challenge, this enemy, is that it isn't an enemy.  Fighting an enemy who wants to destroy me is the easiest thing in the world.  Even in losing, I feel pleasure and pride in having fought.  But fighting one, that wants nothing of me, that desires nothing bigger of me than that I make it to work on time.  That is a hard enemy to take issue with, to summon the courage to destroy this day and every day.

I promise I shall do what I must.

Life Doesn't Draw to a Close

I'm uncertain where exactly I want to take this post, but the inspiration comes from a conversation I was having with a co-worker on the way to the office today.

His view on life was, in essence, "I'm young now, so I can have fun and do what I want. But as I get older, I'm going to have more and more responsibilities, and less and less of my life will be enjoyable until there's little left but duty and obligation." Further, in regard to marriage, he said he could see himself in a couple years wanting to get married, and most likely to a woman who "probably isn't hot but who I get along with in pretty much everything." God. I'll tackle that in a moment.

I was appalled. It was written all over my face. I could not comprehend how a person could resign themselves to a life of diminishing gain, a life of gradually increased torture. A slow death, starting (implying from his reasoning) around the age of 27, and ending gratefully around 75 or so. What the hell could he be living for in an existence like that? Who the hell could he live for, because it clearly wouldn't be himself.

This view of life is so absurdly common. It's implicit nearly every time you hear the phrase, "Well, you're young, do it while you can" or some such derivative. How can a person wake each day and face that their life is drawing inevitably closer to a monotonous slow death, like water torture as an accepted norm of existence?

I don't understand people who say they want to travel while they're young, as if growing older could somehow stop a true desire. I'm young, and I've traveled, and I've enjoyed it. But I've also learned that I don't really know yet what I want to get out of my wanderlust - that I'll understand more of what I want WITH AGE. All I know for certain now is that I prefer living in a foreign country to visiting one for a week or longer. There isn't some imaginary manager of my life, hovering over me and threatening to throw out my sick days if I don't use them before I've reached 30, but most people believe that.

Pook said it best, paraphrasing, the difference between successful people and unsuccessful people is the former invests his time, while the latter spends it. The successful person plants the seeds of talent, of wealth, and grows them over time making their life easier and more fun as they grow older. The unsuccessful person spends it all and has nothing in what should be the glorious twilight of their lives.

Nearly any person I've ever come to know fantasizes about their final days and nights. The final day in college, the final night at home before leaving on a trip or joining the military, the last time you see your love. But nobody fantasizes about their final years as a joyous conclusion to a life spent moving toward your highest values and desires. They see it like the plot of a movie that peaks to early, and drags you with it to the end, leaving only a sigh of relief when the credits finally roll.

Disgusting.

About his view on marriage. I asked him, sincerely, if his is a view that many other share. I truly believed that nearly every person who makes the colossal mistake of getting married does so with honest intentions and as a true error in judgement. Not willfully stepping into mediocrity or worse. He said he doesn't know, but I suspect it isn't so uncommon. Seriously. I can't even bring myself to tear this apart any further than it does itself. It's just so fucking stupid.

I don't claim to live an ideal life. I do claim to desire one, and I do claim to be making decisions in that direction. And it is an upward direction.

Visit the Official Atlas Shrugged Movie Web Site!

Gawd

I read my old posts and can hardly recognize that it's me. Wow. Got to get back some of that, and combine it with the good stuff I've got going now.

Becoming Your Parents - an ode to me?

A quick update on me and my situation.

I've been dating Umma for the last few months (Umma means mom, by the way, not older sister. She claims she said Nuna that first night in the club. Whatever.) She's a great girl and I like her a lot, and I'm still enjoying sex with her which is uncommon for me this late in the game. It could be because we can only see each other on weekends, so the lack of being together all the time keeps things fresh, or it could be for any other number of reasons.

I'm not dating her exclusively, however (much to her chagrin), which brings me to the reason for writing today and the topic I want to explore a bit.

I was talking with my mom on Skype, and found myself completely uninterested in what she had to say - I was browsing facebook while she talked and basically ignoring her. This happens almost every time she talks to me, about almost any topic. Then my dad, while I'm interested in talking to him, very rarely has anything to say that isn't unasked for advice and I find myself not wanting to hear that either (the difference, I think, is my dad now strives to find topics other than advice on which to speak, while my mom still does the same things that bore/annoy me).

It isn't that I don't love or appreciate them, far from it, I'm just having trouble with them as of the last year or so. Perhaps because I'm moving on and becoming my own man. But I digress.

Looking at their relationship, my dad barely even fakes patience with my mom anymore if she tries to get in on one of our conversations. He gets a look in his eye like "Oh gawd.." and then proceeds with an "anyway" once my mom finishes her say. Their relationship is, in short, everything I don't want in my life.

In my experience in the world and almost everything I do, my strongest motivator for self improvement or in changing or shaping the direction of my life has been to see models of what I hate in other people or their behavior, as well as having powerfully painful experiences.

I really like Umma, but there are a few factors that keep me from involving myself in an exclusive relationship with her. In high school, a friend of mine had the most codependent, needy, insecure, explosive and unhealthy relationship with a girl that I could ever imagine. In it I discovered some of my many rules by which I govern my life - never apologize for something over which you have no control, as an example. I held such ire for the relationship that I molded ways to shape my life and future relationships that would never allow me to enter into such an awful, and as I saw it soul destroying situation. To this day I have not had anything near to that level of chaos.

Another factor was my break up with my first girlfriend. Using my newly acquired rules and model for everything I hated in my friend's relationship, I molded my first relationship into something more desirable. We never fought, rarely argued, never -until the end - had any "emotional talks" which my friends were constantly mired in and hated (the talks being the girl complaining about how the man doesn't care enough and needs to do more, or bitching about trivial things). But as I drew toward the end, I realized I needed more.

Emotionally I wanted nobody else but my girlfriend, but sexually I wanted everybody but her. I could not be in a relationship with her any longer and not cheat or make her miserable with my constant icy lack of desire for her. I broke up with her, and it was the single most emotionally painful experience of my life. Since then, I have not had a breakup of that magnitude, and often times the girl and I just drift or go different ways in life, and come back to find there is still some spark for each other, some piece we can still play with if we desire.

The final factor is my parents. In asking my dad why he chose my mom to marry, one valentines day a couple of years ago, among many words carefully chosen to disguise meaning and bland acceptance, I remember these in particular, "One day, you'll find a woman with...enough of the values and qualities that you appreciate." I couldn't believe it. He had actually said 'enough.' My father, veteran of an over 30 year marriage, had just confessed to settling instead of striving for what he really wanted.

The result of that kind of attitude? As much as I love and respect him, and as far as he has come in life (wealthy, occupationally successful, viewed as successful in family for having a seemingly stable marriage and three children, big house, a few cars, etc.) if I gauge his success by happiness, he has failed. His life consists of going to a job he hates, facing again each Monday like he's going into a battle he never wanted to be part of, coming home in the evening, having dinner, maybe watching a movie rental or some TV, then going to sleep and doing it all over again. He spends the large amounts of money he makes on home improvement projects. New furniture, a remodeled staircase and fireplace, etc. and only gets pleasure from those when other people admire them or notice they've changed (gone in a year when every friend has seen it and new people don't always comment).

His greatest happiness, outside of his pride for his children which I see glow more strongly in him and am thankful for, is going to some family owned land out in the mountains and being in nature. Hiking, fishing, hunting, etc. The problem? He can't share it with my mother because she gets bored out there. As she ages and continues to eat body destroying food (a sin I'm guilty of as well) and dogmatically holding to the idea that pilates is superior to HIT as exercise, her body degrades and as basically falling apart. She constantly has knee and joint pain so any sort of demanding outdoor physical activity, demanding beyond walking a short distance, causes her pain. She enjoys theater and dancing (though I wonder how much dancing she could do in her state) and things of that nature. She and my dad are complete opposites, interest wise.

And yet, people always say, "As much as you try not to, you're going to be like your parents." Perhaps repeated patterns like that of my parents' relationship are what is thought of when the phrase "sins of the father" is used.

I think that's a crock of shit, in my case. Of course I'm like everybody in saying "I'm not going to make that mistake! durp dee durp dee dee!" but I'm the only person, the ONLY person who I've grown up with and met (other than through some mutual area like the PUA community which has a number of guys like me) in my travels through life who has changed his behavior and reshaped his life when I've come into contact with things that come close to destroying me or that I despise.

When it comes to marriage, I avoid it like the plague while more and more of my friends get married or engaged. Everytime I bring this up with people who talk of marriage, if they're older it's always the same response, "You're just young, you'll get to an age where you're ready to settle down, blah blah blah." I'm 23 and I hear this from 25 year olds, as if being 20-30 out of a hopefully 70-90 year life (18 or more of which spent in the shelter of your parents) is enough to experience and drink in all that life has to offer.

As a side note, the most recent of those seasoned life livers (25 years old) left Korea to get married and has now broken up with her then-fiancée.

I need also to take myself down a notch. The predominant purpose of my philosophy and guiding principles in my life has been the avoidance of pain, but very few of my major decisions have been in the pursuit of pleasure.

From this point forward, I have a new life goal and guiding principle.

My goal is to continually ramp up my effort to make decisions that are based on the pursuit of pleasure, and not the avoidance of pain.

Of course I'll still recognize that the avoidance of pain has brought me a long way, and there are decisions that ought to be made in that way, but the goal stands.

It is vague for now, but I'll tweak it.

First Korean Date

I've been in South Korea for the last month and a half, and will be for the next 11 months. It's lovely, so far.

Last night I had my first date with a Korean girl.

From what I've gathered from talking with Koreans, doing a little research on the side, and my own observations, the dating culture here is nothing like it is back home in the States. Well, it's similar, but moves a pace that is MUCH SLOWER than everything back home. That isn't to say that an extremely gifted lady's man couldn't make things happen fast, but it's going to be a different, perhaps harder road.

First off, Korea is a very patriarchal culture. Despite what feminists want us all to believe, the United States is nothing like this. Women are actually treated differently by the boss than men, they have different social rules applied to them (e.g. women who smoke in public are looked at with scorn, the girl I took out was rejected by a man because she told him it was OK if he smoked because she smoked too), and have a completely different mindset when it comes to sex and dating. The family is very important, and so many women are genuinely dating to find a husband, and it is considered shameful in some circles to not be married by your late twenties. Marriage is a major life goal of many women.

In regard to sex, any sort of touching or kissing before several dates have passed (I've heard tons of different numbers, from a couple dates to a couple months before it's OK) is considered, for lack of a better word, slutty. A Korean friend of mine explained it in limited English by saying the girl just does not know until then if your feelings for her are genuine.

Enough on culture. I met this woman, "Um-ma," in a night club in down town Seoul. She looks perhaps 23-25, very petite, short hair, and has a set of girly adorable mannerisms juxtaposed along side a genuine "don't give a fuck what you say" attitude that I'm drawn to irresistibly. However, when we asked each other's age (common in Korea because it helps people decide how much respect to speak to you with - Confucian culture) she told me she is 32. Whoa! She said, jokingly, that I should call her Um-ma, which means older sister.

I approached her while looking for my friend's glasses, and discovering that she spoke good English, started talking to her in what way I could in the loud night club. I asked her for a mint, and then moved us to a less loud area of the club. I was surprised she was so willing to follow me after such a short interaction. We talked quite some time, at one point I left the club not intending to come back after we exchanged facebooks (I only just got a phone), but I did come back and we talked some more. I was the only person who had commented on her rain boots as "ridiculous" and she seemed willing to let me touch, move and rearrange her posture to fit what I wanted.

After awhile, I convinced her we should talk some place else and we left the club together. We held hands and walked around in downtown Seoul, just talking and getting to know each other. That night I told her I would call her as soon as I got a phone, and would send her an e-mail asking for her number. When we parted, I hugged her and gave her a kiss on the cheek. She only weakly hugged me back and did not kiss me. I took this as a sign of Korean culture and not any sort of disinterest.

I called her up later that week, we made plans, and we met up last night in Seoul at about 7. We did not hug when we met, it felt like it would have been forced and somewhat awkward. We walked around a really neat district, just talking to each other and enjoying each other's company. Then stopped at this restaurant to eat some of this ( http://lorencz.com/wp-content/uploads/2008/08/800px-korean_chicken_soup-samgyetang-01.jpg ). Very delicious, if a bit expensive. She offered to pay her share, but I told her she could pay for the next place. I was told it was bad manners not to pay for your date in Korea, but much of what this girl said to me seemed very disillusioned by much of Korean culture, especially in regard to dating customs and social norms (she smokes in public!).

We walked around a bit more, talking and talking. A lot of my humor was lost on her because it just doesn't translate so well, and she would often respond logically to some of my jokes - One thing I do sometimes back home when somebody talks about a weird quirk or fear is to assume a faux Freud accent and look at them seriously and say, "Tell me about your mother!" but Um-ma responded by actually telling me about her mother. She has such adorable mannerisms, like when something excites her, or if she finds her way when looking for something, she will skip one step, or the pitch of her voice gets higher. Such a cutie.

She took me to the waterfront and we went up into a cafe for a waffle and a milkshake. It's adorable watching any Korean use a knife because they don't ever do it (if they have long noodles or a big piece of meat, they cut it with scissors. Seriously). So after she struggled enough cutting the waffle, I took the knife from her and showed her how to use the teeth and saw through the food, busting on her a little, and then I forked a piece and tried to feed it to her. She refused and got embarassed, playfully, but I persisted, treating her like she was the young one of the two of us. She conceded at last and held my hand while I delivered the food. When there was only one bite left, she told me when she was young her parents used to tell her "the last bite is for the youngest" and so she forked it and tried to feed me, laughing at my age. It was probably the best few moments of the night.

We were out too long for me to catch the subway home, but I have a friend who lives near where she does, so she said I could come with her to meet her friends while I waited for my friend to call me back. He didn't call back for a couple hours, so I ended up at a bar having drinks and talking with Um-ma and her two cute female friends, who were already well drunk by the time they showed up. I got a hold of my buddy and he said I could stay, but i wasn't ready to head to his place. The friends insisted that Um-ma and I sit next to each other, which in Korea is what couples do, and at one point one of the friends said I could go home with Um-ma and she wouldn't mind at all. The two friends talked to each other in Korean, and Um-ma and I sat close, touching each other and listening to a shared pair of headphones while talking. She ended up pretty tipsy (extreme light weight) and was ready to get out of there.

I got up with her and took her downstairs to get a taxi, and she said "It's OK if you come home with me, tonight." Normally I would take this as a surefire invitation for sex, but this is Korea, and nothing is as it seems. She took me to her place and told me just before we got there that she had a roommate, but she works the nightshift and wouldn't be home. More good signs?

We walked in to her apartment, which was spotless and yet she still apologized for the mess, and there was her roommate, flopped over on her bed, passed out with her bedroom door wide open. No matter, we went into Um-ma's room and got ready for bed. She wanted to shower before getting into bed so I waited for her to return (again, I'm made somewhat unsure by Korean customs of how I should behave, and decided this was not a green light). She did, with nothing but a towel on, then put on a long night shirt that made her look like a little girl, with no panties on underneath. She put on some boots of hers and did a short model walk for me, which got me very excited. Then she took them off and climbed into bed with me.

We cuddled a few moments, me deciding if I should just act on my desire and relieve her of any responsibility, before her phone rang. It was the roommate. PISSED OFF that Um-ma had brought home a guy. They texted a few times before Um-ma got up saying "she had to do something about this" and went out to talk to the roommate. 10 minutes later, after some heated argument in Korean, Um-ma came back and told me that I had to leave. She apologized profusely, but would only explain her roommate's agitation as "a Korean thing" and started ranting about how sometimes she hates and doesn't understand Koreans.

I pulled her into my lap and held her for a few moments, told her everything was OK and I could call my friend, and that she need not be sorry. I had told her about being into Jujitsu earlier in the night, and I held her close and pulled her down onto the bed and whispered "this is Jujitsu" jokingly. I pointed to my cheek, she went to kiss it and I turned to steal a kiss on the lips. She caught me and pulled away coyly, and I gently pulled her in for a kiss on the lips. We hugged again, I dressed, hugged her again and kissed her cheek at the door, and left.

I had an hour and a half to kill before the subway opened (it was 4 am) so I just walked around her neighborhood till I could leave.

What a fuckin' night.