"Come out upon my seas,
Cursed missed opportunities
Am I a part of the cure?
Or am I part of the disease?"
[Coldplay, "Clocks"]

My engine is stalled, and in a bad part of town.

I've found myself awakening lately to the fact that I have to stop my little "vacation" and move my life forward. That means getting off my ass and doing a lot of things I really hate doing, like finding a job and finding a relationship, and doing it at a time when I have no real "backing". One without the other is not so bad. Both, at the same time, is really fucking hard. And usually when I'm in a difficult time like this, I tend to slide and wait for the bounce, but I just can't bear to bounce this time. I've no desire to revisit the bottom of the pit simply to get up enough steam to start climbing again. So tired arms and all, I've got to start moving upwards.

I'm not quite sure where to start, and rather unfortunately, I've found some bad sources of fuel for the tank.

Ever seen that Snapple commercial they play before the movies? It's the one with all the questions, including "Would you rather meet your idol, or someone that idolizes you?" How about you? Which would you prefer?

My answer came to me fairly easily, and then, on contemplation, it led me to realize something about myself that rather bothers me, and quite a bit. I'd rather meet someone that idolizes me, or at least admires me. And I frequently do. I do because I use it as fuel to propel my life. And I've spent much of my life trying to put myself in that position. Teaching, guildmastery, writing... these are all activities aimed at putting me in a position to be admired, and then once I find those admirers, I thrive off that. And the stronger the admiration the better. I feed on idolatry.

Everyone needs to be loved. Everyone likes to be admired. Everyone wants to be wanted. But the teaching, the writing, the flirting (and I'm a severe flirt)... I'm looking for some level of assurance and acceptance and reinforcement that propels me forward, and I can't help but worry if that desire is stronger in me than in most, and to the point of unhealthy. How far am I willing to go? How much destruction am I willing to leave in my wake?

Once, many summers ago, I seduced a girl I didn't particularly like. In fact, I disliked her. I didn't have any interest in pursuing a relationship with her. I didn't expect it to be particularly good sex (and it wasn't). I've often referred to it as a "hate fuck". I did it because I wanted to see if I could. I did it because it felt powerful to have her eating out of the palm of my hand, to have her wanting me, and when I found out (at the last minute) she had a boyfriend, it not only didn't stop me, it urged me on. Did cheating on her boyfriend destroy her relationship? Did she even tell him? I don't know. I know she was probably expecting more from me than to simply get it over with and leave. I know she wanted to talk to me again about it in the days that followed while I snubbed and ignored her. And I remember not particularly caring. Did I leave a trail of destruction just so that for a few hours I could feel attractive and desirable and admired and lusted after? Probably I did. Just for the sake of feeling manly for a little while. Why? Because sometimes, I am an asshole.

(Be sure to stop and take a long look at your own life before waggling any fingers, mind you, because chances are that at times, you too are an asshole.)

See, I've always chalked up that day to a bad part of my life. It was at a very lonely time. I was having a really rough go of it, and I did something I shouldn't have, and I feel badly about it. I've tried to tell myself I'm beyond it, that I've outgrown it, and that this sort of behaviour is something I'd never engage in again. It was a rare and not repeatable moment. But that's not the truth. I think it's only the circumstances that have determined my behaviour. I don't think I necessarily have any more self-control now than I did back then. I don't think, given the opportunity, that I'd be any better today at staying out of the wrong beds than I was in the past.

That is frightening to me.

Even of late, I find myself in a situation where I'm flirting with women I shouldn't be flirting with. I'm flirting because I enjoy flirting, and while the consequences of such flirting do cross my mind, the enjoyment fulfillment this flirting brings me fuels me. It fuels me at that time when my engine is stalled. It fuels me in a way I find impossible to resist. And I don't fear the consequences to me. There aren't any really. I fear the possible consequences to others, and worry that I might again leave a wake of destruction, simply because I lack self-control.

It's disturbing to know you've done something wrong. It's more disturbing to know some day you'll likely do it again.

"But why", asked the frog. "Because I'm a scorpion," came the answer. How lame.