Who is Roberto and what is going on?

Not out of lack of egotism is he referring to himself in the third person. He's no stranger to ego, brain, and arrogance. It is not the deficiency of fear and self-loathing either. It's more like an aversion of an all-out assault of misunderstanding and willful scorn. Anyway, here he goes again into this forbidden terrain of self-recognition.

1. Why is there a lamentable lack of self-restraint and a corresponding thumping of the nose against rules and regulations? For years, he has been fascinated with his undue attraction to self-destruction. It looks like he wants to find out who he really is.
2. He thinks he knows about love and its less than perfect manifestation: sex. He looked at her picture posted in the Internet, resting peacefully beside a bubbling brook. He remebered of an all night session of arguing with her as to why there was an inconsistency of her narrative of a very insignificant event. He marveled at her failure to understand why he insisted unambiguous, unconvoluted progression of the recounting of facts which led to her decision and why glossing over of details, no matter how insignificant they were to her, bothered him. Her propensity to tell small, instantaneous lies disturbs him. At any rate, he begins to understand why loneliness is a burden to most humans.
3. He attributed his verbal fluency to his struggle to overcome stuttering during his childhood and his sudden encounter with foreign languages at an early age. His brain must have received a jolt at such a tender age and has been busy to make adjustments ever since, especially after he decided to give it a challenge every few months.
4. He was abysmally poor at self-awareness and at how people viewed him. Now he begins to be more aware of the cognitive complexity when he interacts with other humans.
5. Today he ran into her at the grocery store. She looked good as ever. She looked at him. He looked back for about two seconds and then he looked away and then marched to the nearest aisle, away from her view. Ever since he couldn't help thinking of what could have been and of what could be. But actually in the final analysis, nobody would be that good, that deserving. Life is slowly grinding to a halt and then it's all over. He was sitting in the study room, at his desk, trying to concentrate on a difficult thought: why did people express some disrespect to him? The search for the answer is making him find taciturnity and duplicity attractive. He looked outside. The end of autumn was approaching. There was only a motley of few weather-beaten brown-reddish leaves hanging onto two branches of a maple tree in his backyard. The grass on the lawn already turned grey-yellowish. Beyond the iron fence, several scrawny cranes were fishing in the large drainage pond overgrown with weeds. He thought of her stupid, ignorant remarks of a few weeks ago. Once again, he found the wisdom in being silent and not revealing his thoughts. There was no advantage to let others what he really thought of them Most of them wouldn't have the courage to accept his judgments and assessments. He reminded himself that he must at all times be as cool, not as cucumber, but as a liar in the act of trying to talk himself out of a jam, and as placid as a pond in a windless early morning in the fall. Ever since he had a satori moment a few weeks ago when the stupid hag uttered some lying words about his character, he has tried to conduct himself with shibumi. Last night he had a horrific bad luck, but he kept his mouth shut and moved on. All his knowledge and understanding about life amounted to nothing if he couldn't take bad lucks with equanimity and understated elegance.
6. He looked at women with bemused detachment. He now understood why certain women of the past viewed him the way they did. It was not their fault. He was already near the end of his life. Wisdom came a bit late. Ambition and insouciance are embedded with youth. Youth thinks it invents the world. Maturity respects the world that it finds. He used to be a man of iron will, a veritable fortress of restraint and fidelity. Somehow he lost much of it along the way. Ironically in the twilight of his life, he tried to recapture the lost will and to rebuild the citadel of self-restraint while trying not to show contempt to the fucking cowards who put on a show of wise cynicism.
7. The morning was cold, way down frigid. Winter has finally arrived at this fucking desolate patch of land. He walked outside to inspect the backyard vegetable garden. Thin layer of frost was covering the ground. Foggy breaths emanated from his nostrils, temporarily hanging in the the crisp, wintry dry air and then just disappeared. The impermanence of appearances and the cycle of life. He felt somewhat unhinged. Love was not what he conceived it to be. It had more to do with ego and pride than true flutterings of the heart. Today there was a news report about a lonely Australian obstetrician-gynecologist being swindled out of 3.5 million because he was smitten for some Chinese-Australian woman. He felt nauseous after reading the news because a tsunami of repressed bitter memories washed over him. he was wiser now, but that didn't mean the desire to set things right was completely dead. There is no bigger fool than a fool in love. And there is no blacker list than that of a perpetually disillusioned lover. Love can be beautiful. And it can be way ugly. So many dastardly deeds performed and revolting language uttered in the name of love. Recently he said goodbye to two women. They both reacted violently and used extremely vulgar language when denouncing him. Of course, he didn't actually hear the foul gutter language. He didn't answer their calls. They left their filthy messages on the voicemail.
8.

(to be continued)