Games people play

Many, many moons ago, right after Laura dumped me, when I was floundering about in the sea of depression, I chanced upon a book naned "Games people play" by Eric Berne (I think, I don't quite remember the detail. Too long ago. I am an old man now. I cannot get it up on demand anymore. And I am too proud and stubborn to seek chemical assistance). I leafed through the book. All I remember now it's part of transactional analysis. Life is a transaction, an exchange of resources, including feelings. To win the game of life, one has to follow certain rules. Sounds Machiavellian and conniving and full of common sense. But I am stupid and deficient in common sense. I insist on playing by my rules, which are: I am who I am, if you take the time to get to know me, you'll like me and perhaps even love me, otherwise I don't give a fuck (okay, I do, but not enough to change my way. I am childishly egotistical, but in a "nice" way).

Anyway, my stupid orientation and approach to life has hurt me, of course, but I am too pathological in self-destruction to change. Take her, for instance. I know she is playing a game of hot and cold with me, testing how hard I'm falling for her. She does not know the depth of my pride and the intensity of the importance I place on honesty and forthrightness and consistency. While I don't deny she does turn me on in some sick, illogical, impractical way, I am pedaling backwards emotionally and am already on a search for an exit. All these words, these confrontations with myself via songs and poetry are just my way to ease myself out of an emotional trap I find myself in. One, two, three, I will be free. Love has to be true and real and free of games. You love somebody because you cannot help yourself. You surrender yourself to a mysterious force, knowing that you may hurt yourself, but you don't really give a damn. Too much thinking of pros and cons and not enough feeling smells too much of mercantilism and commercialism. And I hate monetary and financial considerations when it comes to love. Love has to be pure and giving. Love is the gift that insists on giving until one day he or she is overwhelmed and responds decisively one way or another. Any game employed in the name of love would just sully love and leads to eventual break-up. Love in its purest state is not a choice; it's a surrender to the mysterious force of attraction and wonder and mystery and poetry and yes, insanity. What's the fuck I am yelping about? I am just playing a game with myself. That's right, you can play a game with yourself, but you must or rather, should not play with a heart of anybody. You must not be cruel, no matter how deeply you suffered in the past. You must be fair. You must not take out your hurts and disappointments on innocent people. If you want revenge and to exact vengeance, go to those who have hurt you in the first place.