Miserable fuck
I’ve always been a miserable, solitary fucker, I think. My first impulse on being asked to go anywhere or do anything is to decline. Even if I do agree, you can guarantee that as the appointment – whatever it may be – draws closer, my thoughts will invariably turn to ways of getting out of it, or, as a last resort, leaving it to the last minute and then just not turning up. I was gonna say the problem’s got worse as I’ve got older, but I don’t think it has. I’ve always been like this.
What it is, I think, when you drill right down to the core of the problem, is this:
I don’t… really… like anyone.