Love in the Time of Ebola

According to the Greeks, Sisyphus was a bit of a bastard. He pissed off Ares and had the temerity to rat out Zeus, while he was boinking some river god’s daughter.

Result – Tartarus for all eternity; Sisyphus was ordered to push a rock up a steep mountain, only to have the rock roll down. Suffice to say that as far as punishments go, this is right up there as one of the meanest.

Ever since, pointless or futile activities doomed to fail are often described as Sisyphean. And as far as such activities go, falling in love is right up there….especially when you are ugly.

Let’s face it, girls like – leaving aside the universal desire for truth, support, honesty, trust etc – powerful guys, smart guys, handsome guys with good bodies, rich guys, tall guys, guys with charisma etc.

What they most definitely do not want is a guy who looks like an amalgamation of Quasimodo and Humpty Dumpty after the Fall, or in other words me.

I know that, I have no pretension of being good looking, handsome, charismatic etc.

I am a thoroughly average person in more or less every way.

And thus, for people like me, falling in love is thoroughly idiotic. PQqhE (1)

Last Saturday I turned 33 and as I turned 33, I contemplated and pondered and figured out that I spent the last 3-4 years just hoping/dreaming/pining about love.

And it was all thoroughly useless.

Its akin to wishing that the sun wouldn’t rise, that shite wouldn’t fall, that the referees wouldn’t help Barce/UEFAlona etc.

For whatever reasons, I repel women. I already knew that, its not a new realisation, then why did I spend all that time in love?

I think it was Mr. Einstein who said something about insanity involves repeating the same mistakes expecting different outcomes.

Throughout my last 33 years of existence the only thing that has always been constant is the disdain and disgust that people have for me. Its a continuous case of been there, got abused. The best and only course of action left for me is to get institutionalized – I should enroll myself in a remote monastery or preferably a sanitarium etc.

That way I would be kept mentally busy or in extreme cases get some electric shock therapy to keep my mind off things. But, at least, I won’t get hurt.

And that’s a big thing – that will mean I will be able to sleep well at night (well as much as my backpain allows me to) and won’t get distracted during daytime – and the world is my escargot (pardon my Klatchian).

So here’s my advice to all of you men.

If you want to be happy, if you want a life, don’t fall in love.

First, judge yourself – are you handsome? Are you charismatic?

If either answer is yes then do whatever you want….but if the answer is no?

Well, if you, like me, is neither handsome nor charismatic, then love in the time of ebola is nothing but an utopian hallucination and dream, its just something that will torment you and destroy you inch by inch from within, it will suck away your spirit and leave you a hollow shell.

The choice is yours – do you want that for an illusion of love or do you want to be realistic and have a life? If you want to live then be strong, resist the temptation, if needed lock yourself up.

If you feel like your resolution is wobbling, get yourself some electric shocks.

Just keep yourself as far away from women as possible and all of life’s problem will be over.

2 thoughts on “Love in the Time of Ebola

  1. Take heart, boy!
    Even WWE divas fall for the YES movement.
    You may not be handsome, but you’ve got charisma, for sure.
    Show me someone who disagrees… It’d just be you.
    We are all human beings, and being human means you’re most definitely susceptible to cupid’s prick.
    That’s normal, and electric shock is not.


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