Hopelessness.

I find myself in a weird space lately. I find myself trying to understand what is my why in life. In the same breath, I don’t want to fall into the trap of the existential question of what the meaning of my life is. It is safe to say that the question, what is the meaning of my life, is a question that carries an answer that changes with each changing season.

The question was, for the longest time, shaped by my work as a lecturer. I realise that since I resigned from work, I have become nothing. In conversations, I can no longer say that I am a lecturer. When on dates, I could no longer be valued as a lecturer. Which, I must say, gave the impression that I am some deep thinker, some educated, philosophical being. This worked to my advantage, as I know that I am a beauty-within-type person. So the fact that, in dates, my personhood was attributed to my “inner beauty” worked well for me in romantic pursuits.

Freud once said something to the effect that a man who loses sexual drive loses his will to live. The philosophy being that sexual energy is the very energy that creates and sustains life. You know, since I got home, I realised this truth. Now that I am home, I realise that I have been spoilt by the women of the city. Whether it be in KZN or in Gauteng. Even though this may sound very judgmental, women in the city are just better than the ones here at home.

Perhaps it is because I personally never liked the women here at home that I say this. Growing up, women my age never found me attractive or interesting. And in turn, I have never found them attractive or interesting. I developed a subtle yet potent repulsion towards them. And this repulsion has never left me.

But in the same breath, I cannot deny that women in the city are better. They use better skin routines. They are more open to ideas and fantasies. The conversations hit differently. They are modern in every sense of the word. I never could find this with women here at home.

As much as I am subjective as I write this, I believe what I say holds water, as I have heard many other people, men and women, say the same thing. If you download a dating app, it is nearly impossible to find a possible match here. The same can’t be said about the city. If I download a dating app, the women on the feed aren’t as attractive as the ones in the city. I know this may sound rather classist of me, but I am not the only one who has observed this.

A friend of mine once showed me her Tinder feed when she was here. The men on the app, well. One guy was wearing a shiny silver suit with beat-up faux leather shoes. The other gent took a picture in the middle of the veld, dressed in a curled-collar golf shirt with a faded rolled bucket hat. The last gent I saw, I remember, was chewing on wild grass.

In contrast to the guys that she had matched and the guys that had liked her in the city. These guys were clean, took quality pictures, and you could tell that they understood the assignment of making an impressive first impression.

Yes, you can get a potential match on these sides. Not all is lost. However, these matches that meet UEFA-like standards, like in the city, are tantamount to winning the lottery.

The reason I bring this into the conversation is that the city has spoiled me with elite women who rarely exist in these parts of the country. It was like I was playing for the UEFA Champions League and now I am expected to play in the PSL. Like Coach Pitso once asked Andile Ncube, is it possible to go back to community radio after being on Metro? Andile, reluctantly said it is impossible.

And this is a key reason why I find dating here difficult. Besides the primary reason of having a girlfriend, I honestly find it difficult to find a woman who meets the standard that I had gotten used to in the city. And this killed my sexual drive. And I realised that with the death of that sexual drive, so died many reasons for my will to live.

I am not suicidal. I am not saying I do not want to live anymore. But I am finding it difficult to live. I have no student assignments to bury myself in. I have no class to prepare for. I have no date to prepare for. There are no women whom I will go to the gym, buy expensive skin products, put in that extra effort for. There is nothing that compels me to be better as a man in the current affairs of my life. It was when I resigned from work that I realised that I also resigned from living.

Cause what also happened after I resigned, whatever income I had went along with it. And the business I started when I got home, which was doing so well at the beginning, is now starting to show signs of early death. Dostoevsky once said a powerful quote that I have also found to be true lately. He once wrote that a woman with no beauty and a man with no money get to see the world as it is.

You see, a homeless man, for instance, gets to see the world as it is. He has no respect from those around him. He cannot get a woman who will love him for him. For, after all, what can he exchange with a woman to have and cherish her beauty? There’s a street interview that plays in my head when I think of this. This man explains how divorce and a failed business destroyed everything he ever had in life. The situation forced him to the streets, where he has, and is, nothing.

By virtue of the situation, he has no option but to beg people for some income. He says that people spit on him. People ignore him. People treat him like the trash they throw around him. People yell and berate him, tell him to be a man and get a job. Yet he says that it is impossible to get a job because it is difficult for him to look presentable. The only clothes he has are the ones on his back. And to try and look clean is impossible, as there are no public showers or water spaces for him to brush his teeth, bathe and so forth.

When I was about 20 years of age, I once ran away from home. I spent a night on the streets. I was not looking unclean. But when you're walking the street, looking directionless, very few people actually care about you.

They will see you, and intentionally look for a way around you. That night, there was no place I could wash myself or brush my teeth. I tried entering a restroom in a garage, and the attendants were ready to beat me for trying to use the water. That night, I found those industrial concrete cylinders. I crawled into one to try and sleep. Obviously I couldn’t. It was cold and uncomfortable. A security guard from a building across the street came to me with a very strong flashlight, ordering me to leave the area immediately.

Left with no choice, I left. It was around midnight at this time. I kept walking until I found an abandoned building. I got inside, trying to find a secluded corner. When I did find one, I saw this man on sheets of newspapers. He was not asleep. But he was definitely high on something. He was not violent towards me. But I knew that if I stayed, he would rob me. It was at that moment I decided that it was best I go back home. I may have been in deep depression at the time, but after that single night, I came to value the small things like having a warm, safe bed even more.

I share this part of my life because I feel the same way as I felt that night, but without the depression. Now that I know better, I won’t run away from home. Yes, I have thought of it. I have a car now, so I thought that could be my home. But that night made me appreciate the little things, like making a cup of tea this chilly evening. These little things, in the absence of them, make life very miserable. They are the tiny grains of suger to cup of tea that make it sweet. But I do not deny the fact that the feeling of hopelessness and severe loneliness has robbed my heart once more.

I thank the Lord that He gave me a deep phobia of drugs. I could never see myself resorting to those hard substances to escape the pains of my realities. I thank the Lord that He introduced me to alcohol very late in life. This enabled me to enjoy responsibly, and so, I can never see myself drinking my sorrows away.

But the Lord has created insecurities about my masculinity that I still struggle with. Usually when I feel this way, I find my escape in women, circumventing the words of Freud.  If I were single, that would be difficult given the reasons I have mentioned.

I am not single, but I will not cheat. Because I suck at cheating. I am a horrible liar. If I were to cheat, my girlfriend would find out. I cannot afford to lose her over a situation that I can avoid. I can have an uncomfortable conversation with her that I want a second girlfriend. But I don’t have the energy for a second relationship, let alone do I have the energy to live my life.

And yes, some might think, if I have a girlfriend, why feel like I need another one? There is excitement in meeting a new girl. She will send ibele randomly during the day. Your phone will get notifications consistently, some with interesting view once VNs, pics and vids. The desire that she wants you is still new. The joys of unknown pleasures fill the mind with a wild ecstasy. A mature relationship tends to lose this fresh lust. Love without lust tends to taste like food with no salt. It still fills the stomach, but lacks the magic to make it exciting.

This feeling isn’t new to me. It is a feeling that I have struggled with since I was a child. The difference now is that I am an adult. I cannot escape it by running away. I cannot escape it by playing endless PlayStation. I cannot escape it with women. I cannot escape it by giving up on living.

It is a new experience of the feeling. The pursuit of finding a new why for why I live. I don’t know how long it will take me to find the answer. But in the Lord I trust; I know I will find it.