I suspect some guys spend their entire lifetime being battered with reminders of their imperfections.
By ‘imperfections’ I mean those shortcomings as originally perceived by parents, school peer group and early experiences when trying to get a shag.
When something is battered into you from such an age, it’s hard to not take it as ‘gospel’ (ask any former choir boy!). It has to require some serious balls to drag yourself above this early conditioning.
Actually, I’m pretty sure the psychoanalyst, Jung, reckoned that you can never shake it off; you can only learn to face it down. A bit like the way every guy has to deal with Fear. Then, as your confidence grows, learn to suppress the negative shit and try to maintain a positive approach at all times.
But, this can’t be easy, especially if getting a shag continues to present problems. While having a wank is great… it’ll never fully ‘scratch the itch’. So when availability presents problems – which it does for everyone, despite what you hear in the changing rooms – it can only make the early years of conditioning seem like a prophecy, set to plague you for the rest of your shagless days (and nights).
And other stuff just adds to the sense of despair – baldness, for instance. That’s got to be a pisser for some guys, even though it doesn’t actually mean anything – anything in the real world. You don’t lose a good mate just because you’ve got more hair than he’s got (or vice-versa) do you? If y’do, well fuck him.
I’m writing this because my uncle Lawrence recently died and I just know he had a rotten life; prejudice and negativity from day one, and he never threw it off.
O.K., so he was a wimp, but I’m not surprised. I used to hate going to his house. The air reeked of gloom and disapproval, and what I really couldn’t stand was that both his parents spoke to you at the same time. Can you believe that? At the same time! What made it worse for me, as I tried to listen to two voices simultaneously was that I never knew where to look. If I looked at one of them it inevitably had the effect of appearing to ignore the other.
Lawrence, poor bastard, never got stuck-in enough to change it, though I used to warn him that he had to.
But he never did. He was crushed.
It was such a fucking wasted life.