13 Feb 2019

Validation

Self worth charges like a bull, it climbs as the market shrinks. That self-worth is useless in this world, only drives me crazy, why does no one want me in that way, I'm doing all the right things. Well fuck it, I'll still feel worthy, but the currency is worthless because the market doesn't want me, I can't sell myself, I'd even be some kind of whore, sell my money for sex. I'd be some kind of slut if I could do that at least, but I can't, not even that.

Self worth isn't my problem, I think I'm better than I've ever been. Whatever that's worth. For all the good it does. Self worth is painful cognitive dissonance, a genuine pride, but the value's so shaky because the world won't validate. I do appreciate my collection of people who prop me up, I'm fond of them, but my newest sickest obsession is to have my worth confirmed by that ever elusive outside, the only kind of validation that gives me that feeling I haven't had in so long.

Validation is not a trivialization, it's not just for me - it's to make me secure enough that I can be my best self for others, especially a special other. That synergistic strength that is worth the hassle and the daily grind it demands, that feeling I haven't had in so long, in sickness and health, that feeling that I need... is, perhaps, a junkie's sickness effectively, though it's supposed to be the natural high I'm supposed to substitute now that I'm sober, but... for all the good is does me, might as well be a junkie. Never really got a great blowjob, but I think I know what real love is, even though it's been years, I still got the craving for that, it's never left me, I experienced that feeling a man has with a woman that is impossible to substitute or synthesize and I've been hooked ever since. And when it comes to sex, a mediocre real is way better than an impossible ideal, mediocre can be amazing with context, in the with context.

God, this maudlin obsession limps on, a hunting dog with a leg cut off, compromised pheromones and a plugged nose, not knowing where to go, maybe vaguely forward, could be staggering in circles.

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