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roshiGates

Self righteous dirty old fuck
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Hi! My name is Roshi Effin Gates and for those of you wondering, yes, that's my real name. I put that down for tax purposes and I have three children all named after me so get the fuck over it. They sure as hell did. I want to be a writer, and part of being a writer is being able to communicate genuinely what is going on in the ol' dome piece. Not what you think people will enjoy, or what you want other people to learn from you when you only project the cool edge lord stuff. Some of my favorite authors have a candid and brutal observational insight for the most shameful normalcies that we have come to expect when interacting with humans on a day to day level. In essence, there is a level of unapologetic honesty that comes from their brain and is translated masterfully onto paper.

So for practice, and to help sort the jumbled thoughts of a perverted old dude in a balding young guy's body I'd thought I share my causally deep self reflective thoughts on WHY we feel the way we do about stuff from the perspective of someone who has seen the absolute worse in humanity. And what better place to start than the question of "Why do romantic movies make us cry?"

I am definitely not a nice guy. 10 minutes of swiping blindly right on Tinder while defacating is pretty much all the proof I need. But when I go to the occasional romcom with the unfortunate soul who happened to match with a shallow individual like me, I always seem to be fighting back tears at the cliche moments of the film. Dude's about to die to save the girl? Break out a kleenex. Girl finally overcomes obstacles and acheives true love? I sniffle like a lil bitch. And no, from a objective point of view I don't really think I'm that romantic at all, I don't believe in soulmates and I'm never the one to suggest these Nicholas Sparks waterworks anyways. So then why is it that I still have this reaction? My theory, is that most (that I can think of) of us have come to the realization that we are inherently unworthy of the epic types of love projected in front of us, and our tears come not from a place of joy, but from a much more ugly part of our hearts...shame and jealousy.

I'm not going to try and rip into you for genrally liking romantic movies, there's no problem with that. Not every person going to see these movies are as heartless and as empty as me. But just like the guy who watches action movies or the people who read comics, any time we engage in fiction either intentionally or otherwise we perform a temporary act of escapism. It feels good to read Harry Potter books because on a base level, we want to find more about the world Harry lives in so in a way we can live there too. It's the reasons sites like wikia exists for every type of niche fucking ever. So in looking through that point of view we can see how we could apply this perspective to romantic films.
The escapism being that we find a happy ever after, roller coaster ride, one half of a perfect soul types of love in a world that has fetishized the act of falling in love far more than just letting it fucking happen.

More and more of what we consider attractive and what we want in a long term relationship are starting to merge together in an age where it's much easier to lie about how much we value stuff like hobbies and passions vs. how much we want to fuck each other based off of physical attractions, or monetary success. Again, I don't think this applies to 100% of individuals because we're just that...individuals. But at the same time I don't want to overestimate our special snowflake X-Factor because at the end of the day if we sat down and gave a harsh enough critique of how we treat our close friends (the back biting, the lying, the cancelling of plans, the farting in closed spaces, the constant evaluations we have of their every characteristic trait we never vocalize) we lament the fact that our hearts have been cold and dead for the people who have been there for us, so why would we ever delude ourselves into believing we can act genuine and unguarded for a complete stranger?

There's a reason at least ONE of the love interests in most love movies has to be widely considered sexy, and that's so we don't lose interest. Organic and awkward love is painful, real and genuine. Being rejected is ego damaging, and romantic films shield you from all of that, allowing you to experience the journey of being in love without actually diving blindly and unabashedly into the dating scene. It's much more difficult to introduce yourself to people without either coming off as thirsty or fuckboyish. A gentleman is great on paper but lacks the sex appeal we truly crave out of each other.  

We've become a generation of people trying to convince each other that we're totally not shitty people, but I challenge you to turn off all forms of electronics and sit deep in your insecurities, flaws, and the most shameful secrets that would ruin you if they were made public, just like the hero/heroine in any of those romance/dramatic movies. No interruptions, no reassuring observations such as "But everyone thinks that way" or "It's not as simple as you make it out to be" because I'm not in the business of explaining how you and I and everyone else became shit, I'm just saying revel and acknowledge that. Know what kind of individual you truly are, not just the great parts you can put on a dating profile but the real shit parts too. The parts you think others might not find too attractive but you cover up shamefully while judging other's on your own skewed basis of what you think your "type" is. Now try and put yourself out there for someone who you are attracted to. And you wonder why we cry when we see even the cheapest imitation of true love being played out in front of us time and time again?

I think Hollywood knows this, and is profiting on the highs we get because like every crackhead we aren't willing to admit the fact we've become addicted to cheap unearned gratification or that we got a problem that makes us seek out these things in the first place. Understand that loving yourself is painful and if you do it right, your soul will not forgive you for bringing up old wounds. It's ok to ve shitty, hell it's even ok to stay shitty, what's not cool is being unable to admit that to yourself. But, if you can't do even that what business do you have trying to find what you love and hate about others when you can't do the same for yourself? Have fun crying!
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