I find it funny, in a sad way, how either I'm clueless to any signs of interest females might be sending my way (I'm socially retarded in that aspect because nobody in my life has ever (bothered to have) taught me how to read women whatsoever, despite begging for help when it became a noticable problem (I think women mistake me for "playing for the other team", because I CAN'T read them)), or the genuine utter lack of interest in a guy like me there is (and I've been witness to their target of interest one way or another. I continue to question reality and how much sense it's supposed to make. I understand being rejected for assholes, as the common Nice Guy trope would have us believe; but total stereotype-brand douchebags? Getup and all? Seriously. What? How fucking old are we? This phase should have passed since teenage years, but it's stronger than ever in adulthood.).
I've had my share of recent social gatherings and actually going out once in awhile, and I still think willingly giving up overall on trying to enter the dating scene is the wisest choice I have ever made. It makes no sense, women don't make any sense, even after trying to understand them for decades (my sisters are no help in translating, since they don't understand me, or any of my notes, or the help I'm asking for. Apparently asking for a wingman, or a non-run-of-the-mill BS cop-out advice, is like getting a HAZMAT license. The kinds of paperwork, so to put it, I have to fill out, and only to get to the next worthless step.). I've been enlightened, and I still can't make sense of anything. Apparently, being myself scares the ever-loving shit out of people, because I'm happy, relaxed, being an overall smartass sometimes, and using unorthodox methods to solve a problem (like using my feet to grab my nephew's raft, and back-paddling with my arms, like wings, to drag him to safety like a hawk. Quite a show of strength too, since that was not easy to pull off. That was a recent event that in hindsight, and looking at it from a different perspective, would have been funny as hell to watch.).
Despite my time hanging out and whatnot, I glance about from time to time, and nobody (that I would assume would take interest) bats an eye; not even a check-out look, or even attempting to hide it. Oh well, to all women who find me so "boring", I leave you to your boring-ass lifestyle. I'm keeping the course, and being happy, even if it means dying alone. At least I know what's interesting and fun. I matter to myself more than anyone else by this point. For what it's worth, for having to put up with so much crap, letting myself go and being a glutton is my way of rewarding my body for it's service of keeping me alive.