Emotional Stability

Greetings, gentle readers.
Oh, there are so many things on the plate for us to examine and consider the delicacy thereof. Liverpool defeated Arsenal. As Friar Lawrence would say, "in that art thou happy!" Of course, I'm also riding the roller-coaster of being the most liked guy at work to being the worst performer in the eyes of the managers. My co-workers are great, but the only messages I get from managers and supervisors is that of incompetence and inadherence to company policy. The fragility of my ego does not let me perform anything with competence under those circumstances. I tried to quit, but we'll see how that works out...
Next up: platonic relationships.
My friend Trevor called it "the Riot Act." The moment it was directly or indirectly connoted that a woman "just wants to be your friend" or "loves you like a brother".
Yes. Those of you who have been afflicted with this horrid sequence of events not only have our greatest pity and understanding, but only because I am the master of this situation. Of course, by master, I mean that I have done it the most times, and will continue doing it until I die loveless and alone. I love my friends. I will take bullets for them. I will willingly lie down on freight train tracks for them. I will cover my face in luncheon meat and stick my face in a cage of rats for my friends. But somehow, every woman that wants to be my friend immediately excludes carnal knowledge. I will cross every bridge, ford every crossing and climb any mountain for the first woman who says, "Do you want a drink?" but there is no access to love in the nether-world in which I exist.
I am like Brainy Smurf in the Smurfs. He was the most concerned about everything, even getting to the point of running around to all the wildlife and trying to educate them on the uses of handkerchiefs. Of course, no one ever retuned his affection, and he was the least appreciated of all the smurfs but, being a smurf he diligently kept on at his futile task all of his Belgian-inspired life. Welcome to the 21th century wage-slave philosophy where all identity will begin to disintegrate.
So I'm Brainy-smurf. Love is this nebulous thing that exists on Europe, but not in North America for me. I would say that I'll contribute the next time I get the slightest feeling of appreciation or affection, but aside from Mike, I don't think that anyone cares enough to really review this nonsense.
All that remains is to keep giving and to keep caring until either I expire from exhaustion or someone starts to care in return.
As Peter and Gordon famously sang (although the lyrics and music were written by Paul McCartney) "I don't care what they say, I won't stay in a world without love", I can't stay in job where I am unappreciated, in a city where I am unloved, in a country that considers me a source of income tax, and a continent where women find me so repulsive that none have found me worthy of a single date in over 18 months.
But enough about me. In a few days, I should be able to post an academic paper which should shed some light on China's "one-child policy" and the resultant atrocities. Until then, good night England, and the colonies. Cheers,

-mARKUS
^+Justice for the 96+^