JILTED SUPERSTAR: Part 20

Growing up, I had positioned myself to be a collector of bad-vibes and negativity. Was I a complete stranger to myself, or merely a stranger...complete?^{( Or perhaps I was just a human being, just being human. )} In my assorted quests for forgiveness, all of those past times when I'd uttered "I'm sorry, I'll change" how could I expect to have been taken seriously when I was such an utter mess? Interesting how when we're in ‘it' we don't tend to see ‘it'.

It baffles me how our species manages to procreate at all.

It is no wonder that, when push comes to shove, women can indeed become evil. Men are stupid and women are evil; Isn't life, beautiful and delicious as it is, sometimes just upside-down?

Whereas women are primarily psychological and emotional creatures, men are physically and sexually based. Males are generally hard-wired to resist psychological or emotional change. Perhaps as a man, this is how I am now able to understand the inherent stupidity surrounding men in general. In as much, men are exceedingly stupid creatures. Why does it take men so long to change even the simplest aspects in our lives?

A man's favorite guilty battle cry is "I'm sorry! I'll change!"

Ladies, I'm violating an unwritten male code by admitting what I am about to reveal, but when a man exclaims that he's sorry about something or that he'll change whatever, he has absolutely no intention of doing either. When men make changes in behavior ^{( lasting changes)} we don't just suddenly blurt out that we are going to do so; men will not, nor can not, change in one fell swoop. In making such assertions males are simply exercising a desperate, if not primal auto-response, into which very little coherent thought has been placed.

In earlier years, we're blind little rabbits, darting about impulsively seeking to distance ourselves from the tortoise's maturity. As we age we come to appreciate that whereas everything in moderation makes a million bucks; moderation is indeed the key factor to be respected.

Any distinct change in the male polarity of thought on this issue or that issue must be revisited ad nauseam through our assorted successes and failures before true change is ever to occur. Additionally, in some extreme cases, true change in men occurs only after we've lost whatever or whomever we were pledging the very promise of change to in the first place.

It's a great feeling when you finally can say: "Back then I sure was a mess. I still might not have all the answers, but I'm finally prepared to answer for many of my past decisions."

Truly, defining a tree by the fruit it bears is easy once we seek not solely to be filled.

But, how many had I punished in my life with neglect and denial because of my own shortcomings? In continually maintaining accountability for my actions, I force myself to not forget the paths I chose to get from all the way ‘back then' to all the way ‘up now'. Wow, I really was a mess; fancy that.

This reality, I own today.

It took me years of extremism on each end of the maturity spectrum - from the ridiculous to the genuinely frightening - for me to reconstruct even a glimmer of self.

As I oscillated between plain vanilla and completely nuts I lulled myself into a false sense of security through the companionship of others. Rather than be alone and work out my own issues, I took a great many individuals down with me and, like cancer, slowly gnawed away fragments of those with whom I came into contact.

Regarding the past, much of it now is simply muddy and blurry. In general, I have very little recollection of my own past; particularly of my childhood. In any regards, what is the point of the past? The past is arbitrary and completely meaningless anyway, much like the American Democratic Party, or the Republican National Convention. Live for today; it is all that matters. Not even the promise of a better tomorrow is very meaningful anymore since tomorrow is a hypothetical unknown. Yeah, tomorrow is unknown and yesterday is pointless. Only today, at this precise moment, is of any true significance.

Live for today.

I tend to forget real and tangible memories and instead remember only ‘segments' or ‘periods' of my life. My true, ‘solid' memories really only go back about three or four years at any given time, beyond that I usually refer to photo albums and rely upon the honesty of others to remind me of this trivial tidbit or of that nostalgic nugget.

Ironically, I routinely disregard my own past and choose instead to live in previous eras as if they are the contemporary present day. That, I suppose, by clinical definition is a product of my OCD personality. The more I move forward with my living process, the less merit I tend to place upon any of my previous occurrences or events, good or bad. I am certain that is some sort of defense mechanism designed to keep me from discovering my past, intended to keep me living blissfully in a world of fictional, non-threatening and non-confrontational memories.

Plain vanilla and completely nuts.....

Anyway, typically, the ones I hurt deepest were the very ones who trusted me to protect and safeguard them from hurt. After considerable reflection upon the hurt I've caused it is with considerable acknowledgement that I now freely take ownership of whatever pains others experienced through my awkward stumbles.

There is no point in offering apologies as, in practically all instances, apologies are little more than egocentric self-gratification. Apologies rarely make the receiver of the apology feel any better and, upon declaring "I'm sorry" a person is typically sorry only about having been caught misbehaving in the first place. Apologies, just like yesterday's memories or tomorrow's promises, are pointless and completely capricious.

Only now, as middle-age beacons, am I beginning to identify that I am not the superhero whom I once suspected I was, or once naïvely believed. I hope my son will not be too disappointed when one day he discovers that I am no superhero. That's okay; it's not my place to be a superhero. It is my place to be a father and, for me, that's enough. At least for a few years in his childhood I was, at some point, able to be both to him; superhero and father.

That is twice as much as what I had when I was his age.

As reflected upon previously, there was a time when I could not be alone.

In my younger days, as desperate and immature as I was, never once did I ever once categorize myself as such. My ego was notorious and infallible. Throughout my early adulthood the arrogance of my youth commanded that any handsome young man was bred to envy the wisdom of maturity yet to believe solely in the power of his penis. It was my job to fuck and to fuck...well. It was my lover's job to fuck me back and not get hurt and to know and understand the difference. Yes, in my youthful chaos, incapable of acknowledging my short-comings, maybe I did not seek forgiveness, maybe I only sought understanding; I don't know.

Eventually, those close to me would learn the harsh reality that given one more chance, or one million more chances, I would not change and my words were mere lip service.

Sometimes I find myself so entirely consumed by the guilt of my past mistakes, of the intense pain I have caused others that I think my head is going to fall off of my shoulders and roll out into the street. Sometimes I wish that it would.

Lord knows there are a few victims of Reid Basso who probably still wish that it would.

Change? Yes, well eventually; but I had to get around to it first.

"...I'm sorry, I'll change..." How fluid an automatic the words were to me, and in as much, how meaningless in the time of my youth. Yet today, in maturity, those exact words are a middle-age life preserver.

"...I'm sorry, I'll change..." Ladies, you've been duped if you've ever fallen for that truckload of rubbish from a man.

Ladies, if you understand nothing about men, I submit to you the following. Please know the four inherent socio-sexual laws governing the majority of male behavior ...

(1) Men are truly stupid

(2)The perversion bar can always be raised to new heights.

(3) Fellatio is as equally important to men as is oxygen.

(4) All men lie.

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/ / / END OF PART TWENTY / / / /

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© 2007 - R. MARTIN BASSO

NEXT INSTALLMENT COMING SOON:

Series Conclusion of Part 21 - Taking Ownership