I posted this in my LiveJournal blog last year, and reposeted it in my Myspace blog a few months ago. Since it's one of my better ones over the last two years or so, I thought I'd repost it here, since it sort of gives you a little insight into the inherent fucking lameness that is me.

Because there's nothing quite like re-using your own shit. Besides... it's new to *you*.

For The Love Of The Game...
Sep. 23rd, 2005 @ 04:03 am

When it comes to love, I'm the best goddamn sports analyst you ever saw. I can watch the players stride out on the field and predict their moves with uncanny accuracy. I know the stats. I'm up-to-date on the injury lists. I'm the greatest handicapper in the world. One look at a player and I can tell you what scarred them as a kid, what motivates and drives her, and whether two players will be compatible as teammates on the field or not. After the argument, I can dissect what went wrong and tell you what strategy would have worked. I'm the talking head or the sidelines gambler who is just so freakin' good, he could be a coach.

But like any armchair quarterback, or any coach for that matter, that doesn't mean that I play the game well.

The truth is, when it comes to love affairs, I've been clouded just like anyone else. The one thing I keep saying over and over again is that you need clarity in a relationship; you need to be able to see your partner stripped of all the glamour they're cloaked in, as well as the illusions and lies they allow themselves to believe, especially the ones that *YOU* yourself have convinced yourself beyond a shadow of a doubt are true about them. Sometimes it takes being the man on the sidelines to see the things that nobody on the field can.

I'm pretty damn good at that. Always have been. Ask anyone who knows me - "How often is Chad right?" I don't claim to BE always right, even though some people have given me that reputation...

I posted this in my LiveJournal blog last year, and reposeted it in my Myspace blog a few months ago. Since it's one of my better ones over the last two years or so, I thought I'd repost it here, since it sort of gives you a little insight into the inherent fucking lameness that is me.

Because there's nothing quite like re-using your own shit. Besides... it's new to *you*.

For The Love Of The Game...
Sep. 23rd, 2005 @ 04:03 am

When it comes to love, I'm the best goddamn sports analyst you ever saw. I can watch the players stride out on the field and predict their moves with uncanny accuracy. I know the stats. I'm up-to-date on the injury lists. I'm the greatest handicapper in the world. One look at a player and I can tell you what scarred them as a kid, what motivates and drives her, and whether two players will be compatible as teammates on the field or not. After the argument, I can dissect what went wrong and tell you what strategy would have worked. I'm the talking head or the sidelines gambler who is just so freakin' good, he could be a coach.

But like any armchair quarterback, or any coach for that matter, that doesn't mean that I play the game well.

The truth is, when it comes to love affairs, I've been clouded just like anyone else. The one thing I keep saying over and over again is that you need clarity in a relationship; you need to be able to see your partner stripped of all the glamour they're cloaked in, as well as the illusions and lies they allow themselves to believe, especially the ones that *YOU* yourself have convinced yourself beyond a shadow of a doubt are true about them. Sometimes it takes being the man on the sidelines to see the things that nobody on the field can.

I'm pretty damn good at that. Always have been. Ask anyone who knows me - "How often is Chad right?" I don't claim to BE always right, even though some people have given me that reputation (as an insult, and unfairly I might add). In fact, I prefer to include the codicil every time I speak that "I could be wrong, but..." However, my track record is pretty fucking sterling. Maybe I'm that damn good. Maybe it's just dumb luck and common sense. But if you ask me for advice, I'm there for ya.

Some people listen to that advice. Some just dont want to hear it, even if they ask. God forbid you tell them that their problem is not X, but Y. They'll rip your fucking head off and write you off in a heartbeat. They might even hate you for it, or if not hate you, certainly forget that you were once their friend just a moment ago.

But don't get me wrong. I'm not perfect. Far from it, in fact. Most people see themselves as competent even if they're totally incompetent when it comes to their own lives. Talk to someone so paralyzed with fear and anguish that they can barely leave their couch, and they will *still* tell you that they know how their life should be handled to it's fullest potential. They know they're fucked up. They know they're right on the edge of being perpetually emo. And they know that they made decisions that pushed people away. Maybe they were the right decisions at the time, but nevertheless, they allowed themselves to become afraid to get back into the game. And strangely enough, they know precisely what will get themselves out of this predicament. They're just not doing it, is all.

They, obviously, is me.

Everybody lies, everybody has an agenda, and everybody is selfish in their own way. That's just a fact of life. They don't mean to, but people don't go through life saying, "I'm an evil cocksucker. I'm manipulative. I'm controlling and jealous and selfish. I will separate you from your friends and convince you that they are your enemies. I will make you believe that what you have with me is true love while I pull the leash tighter and tighter. This is what I do." But just because they aren't telling you this doesn't mean you dont already know its true. And if you miss it or keep choosing to ignore it, then that's what I'm here for.

Likewise, most people see themselves as generally good people, or if they're assholes or bitches and they KNOW it, they still see their actions as "what normal people do" or as a defensive measure to keep from being hurt first. Oh, they'll tell you "I'm bad for you," but if they really *thought* that they wouldn't hang around you. "I'm bad for you" usually is a code for "I either fully intend to fuck you over, or I probably will by accident. But I'm saying this now so that I can absolve myself of feeling guilty later because now I told you so. You want this. You are allowing it to happen. I'm playing you like a fucking fiddle and you even know it! Why are you continuing to hang around me, you goddamned victim? You deserve the hurt you're feeling NOW because you're asking for it! It's gone from being my fault to yours now because you choose to keep coming back for more. I've got you so fucking fooled, if you were paying attention all this time, you'd know that all I care about is ME."


The flip side of that is that a lot of people tend to hear "I'm bad for you" and how they interpret that is: "I've been bad for other people, but you could be the one that changes all that!" Which might even be true... in the same way it's true that "You may already be a winner!"


But above all, the biggest lies they tell are the ones they believe themselves.

You see, what you *want* to be and what you actually *are* are almost always two separate things. Some of the coldest and most selfish women I know are the ones who seem to be the most passionate, the most heartwarming - the ones who claim to be a good friend and who say they'd never betray you, and somehow in their own minds, they DO mean it. They go out and drink with you and hold you close and whisper in your ear that they love you; you matter to them, and no matter what happens, you're never far from their heart. They say that they have pure souls and that they always think of the people around them first before themselves. They honestly believe that this is their true nature - and its very convincing, mainly because they believe it themselves.

Except when you cross a boundary or piss them off. Step one inch too far and these women decide that what you had to offer wasn't friendship or wasn't worth it. You are nothing more than an idle pastime or just another sycophant among many around them - just some guy who either wants to get into their pants or want to be around them to join the party and feel like one of the "cool kids". And then they'd abandon you, never to speak to you again - at least not until weeks or months have passed and whatever they moved on to after you has now become a memory for them too and they're ready to hit the RESET button on their social lives and start over (an easy prospect for them considering the line of friends and suitors waiting in the wings). They *believe* in love and friendship, you see. Because "I am a deep lover and a valuable friend" is a part of their core personality. But that isn't who they are; its *who they want to be*

And while they can be the most amazing people (when they're being kept happy anyway), they can also redefine everything around them to ensure that this lie stays untouched. It's like magic almost - a simple illusion that fools the crowd and mystifies the eyes of the volunteers that throw themselves upon the stage to be part of the act.

Likewise, some of the people I know who value friendships the most were the ones who have fucked their friends over the hardest. And for those who are reading this - well, they know who they are. And because they're reading this, I know that deep down, they *get* it - that I still value them as my closest friends, no matter what happened in the past because... well, I *get* it too.

And again, Im not claiming to be flawless here. I have quite a reputation for my sense of loyalty and integrity. I pride myself on being honest with my friends and enemies alike. But am I really? As I've said time and time again, EVERYONE has an agenda. And that includes me too. And even though I genuinely believe myself to be scrupulously honest, I never fail to find myself surrounded by miscommunications and irrational people. But just how irrational are they? For it to happen that many times... well, maybe its ME. Actually, judged by my record, I feel confident that I can claim I've told the truth more than most people. And I think I'm pretty good at keeping secrets. Its gotten to the point where some friends tell me secrets that I REALLY wish they wouldn't tell me, things that I wish I didn't know for no other reason than that I wish I were involved with them in ways that don't include me standing on the sidelines. Selfish of me, I know... but I DID admit to having an agenda too, after all. But in the end, I'll listen and keep the secrets because it's the only way I get to be a part of the game. Better to sit in the dugout in uniform waiting to be called out to the field than get sent back to the clubhouse and never get to play at all.

There has always been a part of me that wanted to claim that I lived life of pure honesty for reasons I still don't quite understand - fucked-up ideals of integrity and honor... which sure fucked everything up for myself because I didn't protect myself enough, and for the people who became entirely convinced that I had my own pathetic little agenda. And they were right.

I am reminded of a rule of advertising that says, "The more money a company spends to tell you something, the bigger a lie it is." As a rule, it's true. After all, if Budweiser was really the best beer in the whole world, would they need to spend a zillion dollars a year to promote it? If there was an immediate, notable difference between two detergents, wouldn't everyone recognize it anyway? Is there enough of a difference between Coke and Pepsi to warrant blitzing us with ads and having repeated goddamn taste tests for the last 30 years? Maybe if Michael Jackson's hair hadn't caught on fire in the Pepsi commercial, he wouldn't be as fucked up as he is today. Enough is enough, people!

Anyway, as I was saying...

That advertising rule applies to relationships too. The only way to know the truth is to either be able to clearly form an opinion based on how people act (both toward you and around you to others, and toward themselves) once the glamour's gone, or to have someone you really trust enough to tell you what you might be missing yourself. If you have that kind of friend who can help act as your radar, trust in them! They might have an agenda in that they care about you, but that doesn't mean that they're trying to deliberately lead you astray for selfish reasons. And if you're still not sure, then that's exactly why you have to learn how to trust yourself. That's why you have to be on guard for the little signs. Despite the fact that 90f all people think they're fine, some of them - most of them, in fact - are seriously fucked up (and the emo ones who think they're fucked up are usually fine - just too goddamned whiny). Those signals are not going to come from what they say, but from what they don't say and from their actions, or in the things they say over and over again until it just sounds patently false. What people say they are has nothing to do with *who* they are. Sometimes the thing they spend the most time talking about is the thing they need to convince you of the most. They fall in love with this image of themselves, and it may be devastatingly false. And worse still, they may need you to believe it to make it feel real to *them*.

You have to concentrate beyond the proffered "I love you, baby. We can make this work" to see that the guy doesn't have your best interests at heart. You gotta look past the fact that she's pressed up against you to make sure you see that beautiful smile and phenomenal tits of hers to recognize that she's telling you exactly what she thinks you want to hear. That's a tough thing to do when every bone in your body wants to love this person, trust this person, put your faith in them - but you have to squeeze your eyes shut and SEE.

I talk a good game, but I'm as much a fool as anybody. I've been blindsided by the little lies too. I've been suckered in more times by someone's advertising campaign than I care to remember, paying attention to what they're telling me, instead of realizing that through simple misdirection, a whole game is being played behind my back and inside my head. I've been told that I have a grasp of logic and deductive reasoning that would make Mister Spock and Sherlock Holmes seems like rank amateurs... but I can be led astray as easily as anybody else when I'm the target.

I tell my friends I LOVE them. That's the kind of person I am. I don't know if its an Irish thing, or a Chad thing, or something else altogether. But I honestly believe it and that I mean it when I say it. I say it to the people that I have willingly signed my heart and soul over to - and I run the risk of them not understanding that, or not reciprocating, or in the case of a certain few, not even caring. Its happened to me more than once. In some ways, it's still happening now. And even though I know the game, I know the score, and I know the rules, I still run the risk of losing all over again.

But its a risk I'm willing to take.

Put me back in the game, Coach. I'm ready.

Slainte'.
Chad