Near as I can tell, just about every friend of mine who is single is currently experiencing Dude Woes. Which is to say: they keep meeting and, to their dismay, briefly dating these sniveling losers who bail or ghost after a few dates . . . the operative word being “briefly” on account of they (the women) would have liked for the budding relationship to sail on to that secret place only lovers know. In a few cases, the dude breaks it off after several months of dating apropos of nothing . . . after having lulled them into a false sense of security, when things were going well for both parties! Some tumorous thing has emerged in people on The Apps in this post-virus world where they are absolutely terrified of building something with a kind stranger who is open to loving them. It is endemic. Seems these creeps would rather stay home and look at their phones and feel depressed than see something through just for the sake of the song.

Every week a friend will send me a screenshot of a Breakup Text and ask me for my Dude Perspective. In essentially all cases, the dude admits that, while he enjoyed getting to know my friend, he feels it is best they stop seeing each other for one of the following cliche cop-outs:

• “I’m depressed”
• “I’m not over my ex”
• “I’m afraid of commitment”
• “I need to focus on myself”
• “I have a lot going on at work”
• “I don’t think I’m ready to be in a serious relationship”

. . . and so on. Cowardly stuff!

Listen: these friends of mine are top-shelf high-caliber individuals. They are rarefied . . . truly some of the best people walking the earth. I am fortunate to know them. My friend Emi once said to my brother Kerwin: “Ryan knows all the best people.” It’s true!

The other night my friend Cecelia came to me and asked if something was wrong with her on account of all these scrubs kicking her to the curb after one or two dates, and I told her the truth, which was “Cecelia, absolutely not”. I told her also that in the last two weeks, many of my friends had, like her, lamented The State of Things, had shown me screenshots of messages with these dudes and their weak-ass excuses for splitting, had the asked me the same questions about themselves. And then Cecelia said one of the nicest things anyone has ever said to me:

. . . wow! She’s right.

I have spoken of this many times, but I believe there is a point of no return with a dude in his thirties where, if he does not get it together, which is to say GET OVER HIMSELF, then he will be permanently frozen in that state till the Reaper beckons them into the abyss where even Time does not exist. It seems as though a lot of dudes just putz around shrieking and wailing, not having any sense of themselves or the world they inhabit . . . and have let the three decades of their life render them a jaded, selfish, aloof, cheap, indecisive, and spiritually bankrupt pile of protoplasm.

If this sort of life continues on without being rectified, the dude may as well be strapped into a rollercoaster ride straight to hell. I myself was in danger of crystalizing into this thing. Somehow during the pandemic I was able to overcome it. I know now that operating out of fear is never the true path. A decision made in fear is always wrong. It is better to make something than to wallow in an inert state until the clock runs out. It is, of course, better to love someone else than to hate yourself. Live while you still can! Otherwise you will always wonder at what could have been. TAKE IT FROM ME: in a decade, you will not think “I’m glad I did nothing” . . . you will be tortured by your stupidity and inaction now that this person and this time in your life are fucking ghostly fragments!

It seems to me that, nice though some of these guys may have been to my friends, they still fled out of fear. Must I quote DUNE??

I must not fear. Fear is the mind-killer. Fear is the little-death that brings total obliteration. I will face my fear. I will permit it to pass over me and through me. And when it has gone past I will turn the inner eye to see its path. Where the fear has gone there will be nothing. Only I will remain.

LISTEN:

Stop fucking around and BE somebody, baby! Just start flying . . . it’s that easy! The illusion of choice—forfeiting a chance at true romance because you think there might be some better thing on the horizon—is just that: an illusion. Even if it doesn’t work out, it was not wasted time. As I told my friend Leila the other night . . . when the nukes start dropping, would you rather be hugging yourself or someone who loves you? Now that we live in the Dark World here at the end of all things, it is foolish to turn away from a good thing. If you’ve got a good thing going . . . keep it going! “I’m depressed” is, quite frankly, an extremely pathetic excuse not to hang out with a beautiful and intelligent woman who wants you there. Jesus wept!

OK?

I shall end this post thusly:

. . . OK?