I’ll admit it: I’m probably a misanthrope:

Thinking back on what it used to be like in PA (in other words, my pre-2010 “life”), I can’t help but center on the following facts:

My “best friends” were:

  1. A compulsive E-waste hoarder (Karl, KA3RCS) who only bothered to associate with me because psychologically abusing/maniulating me was “funny”.
  2. John (A blind guy with the “developmental milestones” of a toddler, who had managed to flunk out of more colleges than most people will attend in a lifetime (6) — before finally managing to just barely eek out a passing grade, by majoring in the Kalevala — the Finnish national epic.  (Hint: his “comparative religion” degree has gone unused — because nobody would ever bother to take advice from a morbidly-obese, chainsmoking drunk whose girlfriend has to cut up his food when they go to restaurants.)
  3. The other members of my music-group (who all thought I was gay — and were genuinely “shocked” by the fact that my wife and I got engaged.)
  4. Ray (a child-molester, who was most likely attempting to “groom” me into allowing him to rape me.)

That depresses the shit out of me, because it all amounts to one incontrovertible fact: I didn’t actually have “friends”.  At most, I had “long-term acquaintences”, some of whom happened to share a common interes — but NONE of whom actually “knew” me in any genuine sense of the term.  Moreover, at least 3 of them were afflicted with serious psychosocial pathologies/dysfunctions — obeseity/chainsmoking/malingering/compulsive e-hoarding/pedophilia, etc.

Quite frankly, I’m not surprised that I genuinely dislike the vast majority of “people” I meet.

 

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