Saturday’s are the Worst

As I sit here listening to a sporadic musician play out cover after cover of the same shit in the pub downstairs I am brought to a conclusion like none other. Saturday’s are shit.

Now I’m not some Saturday hater, in fact I Love Saturdays, I love all Saturdays and I love all days. But what I don’t like about Saturdays is everybody’s desperate attempt to make it the greatest time “of their life”. I feel it come about everyday Saturday: “The working week is done and Girls (or Guys) just wanna have fu-un”, Girls just wanna have fun! etc.

And unfortuntely that’s just not the case for the most of us. I feel it peter out in the afternoon when everyone is sitting on their couches sighing at the relief that they don’t have to go outside anymore. Then the slow upswing as they get ready for the pub and the inevitable downturn as you get through a few too many pints.

Let’s be honest, going outside is terrifying. I used to think that I was a bit of an anxious nob who didn’t like people at all and now I realise that I just don’t want to be judged. And that is pretty much all you get outside, Judgement with a capital J. The eyes of onlookers judging you on your clothes, the sight of cash attendants judging you on what you’ve bought. You always have to be on the defence to not let them get in you.

Now some may say that I’m being paranoid but the thing is it doesn’t worry me, I know who I am, and I love myself. I enjoy my own company and I’ve gone days without greeting the outside world to the bemusement of others. “Why doesn’t he hang out with us?” Well, because I don’t know you and I don’t care.

See there seems to be a presumption in this world that we should care what others think. We are a “social species”, no we’re not. We can get along just fine on our own, although the desperate need for affection becomes unberable at one point, but if you never knew of the existence of others you wouldn’t miss them. I think the only reason I feel sad at any given time is because I know there’s other people outside who I might want to talk to, if they’d give me the chance.

See the thing is, no matter much how I think other people are idiots, I do love them and I think the best of them. I just see that they are lost and I’d rather not get caught up in their stupidity and angst. I don’t want to sit around contemplating what a shit world we live in. I don’t think the world is shit! People are shit! But they want to talk to me, which is the funny part, when you ignore someone or go off to do your own thing suddenly they get all antsy. But the minute you turn around and look them in the eye and ask them something about themselves, they run in the other direction.

And there is no shortage of people in this world who will make fun of you. I don’t think they’re even doing it for their own satisfaction, because who gets satisfaction out of that? They do it because they’re sad, because they’re lonely. People are scared of me because I’m not lonely, although I do feel loneliness but it’s not the end of the world and I’ll find someone to fill my gaps with. I just don’t “need” them. I’ve got to work on myself. And this is what other people don’t understand.

I once had a conversation with a man who was down on his luck about dating. He’d gone 3 years without any substantial relationship and when I asked him what he’d done with those three years he said, “dived in a shark tank” to which I promptly replied: “why would you want to do that?” This man believed that the way to open yourself up was through experience and he’s right but he’s also wrong. Are you even afraid of sharks? I used to be deadly afraid of them but now I just don’t care. Why do we even go in the water? To get eaten?

You can’t go on a spiritual journey with frivolous experiences. What about doing something hard? Yeah sure diving with sharks is scary but there’s a cage between the two of you. How about diving without a cage? Now that’s scary.

That’s the problem, nobody knows how to break the barriers. We go out into our lives in a metaphorical cage. Our clothes, our jewellery, our makeup (or cologne or hair products for the guys), it’s all a disguise. A disguise of who we truly are because we’re afraid of being judged, afraid of doing something wrong in front of others. Well if you don’t go to the pub on a Saturday then you won’t need to dress up. Why don’t you stay home? And be sad and lonely and see what that feels like, because I promise you, on the other side of that there is hope. Hope for a better you, hope for a better life.

And that is why I dislike Saturdays. Sort of. Mostly.

Thanks for listening,

and as always, Love You!

xoxo Gossip Josh

tess1

 

 

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