Menuet II

It's time for the long-promised secret of why I hate everything. 

I teased it a little while back, but on my recent London tour, I think I finally cracked it. Of course I don't hate everything everything, so stop being so facetious. It finally hit me while I was in the Royal Albert Hall at the Prom: I feel completely inadequate all the time. It makes me hate everything around me, everyone around me, and importantly, it makes me hate myself more than you could possibly imagine. Sometimes I feel dreadfully alone, and I hate that. Other times, I feel socially uncomfortable, and I hate that too. I hate how inadequate being awkward makes me feel. Sometimes, I hate it that I wasted my childhood because I was too anxious all the time to do anything constructive.

I look at the problems I've faced over the past two years, and unsurprisingly that makes me feel inadequate too. The way I feel at the moment, I will never be good enough to have a meaningful romantic relationship with...anyone. I see people that I'm attracted to, and I just remember how much of a failure I am. What can I offer to somebody else other than disappointment? Is that sad? Is it? That's how it works in my head these days. If I never try to get together with anybody ever again, I can never be a disappointment to anybody. I'm sure that there are perhaps people out there who read this with a certain relish, that I should feel like a failure. It's difficult to mount an effective defense! I'm sure you can imagine.

I hate people who are happy, who are successful and who don't need to worry about money...but as soon as I have those things myself, I hate me, because I believe that I don't deserve any of it. And that's the crux of it all. I hate everything because I feel inadequate all the time, but as soon as I have it I hate myself because I don't deserve it. I actively shun acclaim or compliments of any sort so I don't have to feel awkward in trying to accept them even though I don't believe any of it. I'm good at what I do, sure, but what I do is so specific that nobody else would even need to repeat any of my actions because that's how my life works.

There had to be a reminder of the rainclouds. I draw these galanteries to a close by repeating the opening statement: Almost home now though.