Women, am I right?

The beauty of this blog is in its organic content.  I can look at what I've written and see how much I've changed in retrospect.  Even if the posts were made only a few months ago, my perception of things has drastically changed; I've done a lot of thinking, mending, breaking and growing.  What I've written on this blog, though immortalized on the internet, is by no means engraved in my heart.  This has been a helpful outlet, letting me sort out thoughts and receive feedback from people who otherwise wouldn't have a clue as to who I am.


At first, I was surprised at the amount of people who liked this blog moreso than my comedy writing, but now I thoroughly understand why.  In fact, I'm putting a rest to inkubateblog because it's done nothing but lower the credibility of this blog and preemptively release jokes before going through the proper filtration process.  Now without further adieu, my Acoustic Thought.

I essentially spent the better part of my early childhood hanging out in my mother's hair salon, surrounded by gorgeous women smothering me in unconditional affection.  As they conversed over my head about relationships, life, wants, dreams, and other things of the sort I soaked it up like a sponge.  I listened to everything.  Because of this I've always held women in the highest regard, revered them for their complexity and have shared a certain empathetic bond with them.  I have achieved an understanding for women, though not all-encompassing, which has always provided a good base for communication.

However as of late, this connection to women has been fading.

Much like a carpet too big for the room it is being put in, my life is having troubles fitting into the space given.  Just when I've fitted three corners of my life into the room, the final corner kicks up against the wall.  In this case, I've gotten financial stability, my ambitions are on track and I like to believe that family and friend relations are fantastic as well.

But like anyone else, I'm one lonely bastard.  I crave the company of a woman in my life; such an unsatiable hunger has yet to be stymied by anything or anyone.  And the lonlier I get, the worse I get at handling myself around women.  I fumble with the preliminary cat and mouse banter, overcompliment women and reflect the low self-esteem that only grows with each failed chase.

I'm becoming flustered, worried that I might lose the most prime years of my life to meet women to the comfort and stability of my current situation.  When I was a mess, to say the least, I had no problems meeting women, courting women and even sharing meaningful connections with them.

Is this some sort of mental block I've put up?  Or is this nature telling me to sacrifice one thing for another?  Perhaps I'm just not opening my eyes enough to see the answer right before me.  Regardless of what the problems or the solutions are the fact remains:  I'm one lonely bastard.