You know, I didn't specifically look for a blog about this subject. I was kind of being facetious last Friday but that's kind of how it worked out.
So Christfag Wednesday it is, if I had to guess.
I really am psychic.
We're skipping the writer's block because it's PUMPKIN CARVING XP bullshit and no one cares--
I mean, I don't care anyway but today I especially don't care.
It's kinda funny how I went from being the loneliest bastard just a couple weeks ago, to having a few men competing for my attention.
The DELUUUUUUSIONS of a crazy or a group of completely beta male faggots?
I will leave that as an exercise for the reader.
I just don't know what to do, I don't like any one in particular more than the other. I can't decide which is cutest, who I enjoy being with more, who has the most potential....
In this case you need a completely impartial judge.
I consider myself a capable judge.
I feel a deep attraction to Mitchell that I don't understand. I've just always thought he was so cute, but I was also under the impression that he didn't like me.
Stupid name.
Next choice--
That's what Laura always told me, that Mitch hates everyone and he thinks I'm annoying.
On second thought, Mitchell sounds like a reasonable man.
But that seems to not be true, he says that she was worried we'd start dating. I always kinda thought that was the case, just from how she talked about him... And how whenever she'd want to do something with him and I was like, "sure invite him along" she'd be like, "no I don't want to have to listen to him talk about you". So I was surprised when I hung out with him that he was really easy to talk to.
Who is this friend who censors who you get to talk to? Tell her to get fucked.
Literally. I think she needs a nice dicking to calm down.
We went for a walk out in the freezing cold and got drunk. We were sitting at a park and I commented on how it was cold and he put his jacket on me,
This is really interesting and all but can you stop talking about it?
Oh hey, I just stopped reading it.
That's a neat trick~
This is what my horoscope said today: "Perhaps it is the sense of intrigue that surrounds a certain person that attracts you like a moth to a flame.
This is what my horoscope said today: "you are a stupid cunt for taking your horoscope seriously."
Pretty fuckin' freaky, seeing as I literally spent the whole entire day thinking about how attracted I am to Joey.
Joey, Mitchell--
Whoa, weird nostalgia rush. Remember that blog from about a year and a half ago where it seemed like some slut was fucking half the planet and I had to keep the names straight?
Heh, good memories.
And I got to hang out with him today, even though I wouldn't say I got to know him much better.
I distinctly recall worrying I'd have to put up with a ton of stupid Halloween posts today.
Glad that fear was unfounded. Actually, no, I'd rather slog through 50 bullshit Halloween posts than read this nonsense.
I remember thinking, "I have no idea what it is that's attracting me to him so much, but I just get this feeling from him. I like his energy frequency; it feels right to me". wow. I'm just still so scared I might have scared him away somehow, by something I said or my high anxiety level or anything, I don't fucking know.
You're really stupid.
I know I say that a lot but for real you are stupid. You are legitimately stupid the old fashioned way.
There was this one weird moment of silence and my thoughts kind of drifted off to when I first realized how cute he was.
Hand of the Gods is such a good ability, did I even tell mention this?
It's a free 50% in any craft. It's great.
Between Maker's Muse, Preserve, Fulfillment and Hand of the Gods it's basically impossible to fail a synth.
So I'm thinking about how a couple weeks ago I met this one boy. I can't remember if it was two weeks ago or just a week, but regardless I've been texting this boy every day since I met him.
I think we're in this for the long haul. Do you think about anything else besides how best to fill your cavernous twat?
I'd wager you don't if I had to go off these last three entries.
One boy she flagged down stopped and said, "you're too pretty to be smoking, you guys don't really smoke". Very flattering,
What a douchebag. Is that what girls really want to hear?
Serious?
Baby, I don't even care if you smoke. Give me some of that toxic.
No there's no way you're old enough to be legally allowed to smoke.
That's the part I find unbelievable.
but I don't care because I don't like being hit on, I just genuinely do not care. So the boy turns to say to his friend, "hey come here, do these girls smoke?"
"Gee, I guess they do by virtue that I'm watching them smoke. Any other obvious things I can point out to you, dipshit?"
... This is why I have no friends.
and he says, "no, I don't think so" and the guy goes on to say, "see, too pretty for that".
Look, I'm sure it won't win me any points with either men or women but I'd be willing to punch this cocksucker in the solar plexus for free, honey.
I'm not even hitting on you. I consider this a matter of honor.
But I still don't care because I'm too busy trying to not get caught starring at the guy's cute friend.
I'll throw in a solar plexus punch for him, too, if you're interested.
Your lungs are my speed bags.
We end up talking (or more like Aly ends up flirting with king of creepy compliments, Steven I think was his name? & the cute friend's name is Joey, which peaks my interest because that's probably my favorite name.
Idiots of the internet: peak and pique are different words.
So Steve and Joey come to my car with us to help direct us to Joey's house. We got there and me and Aly decide it's time to get high, and ask who's down to smoke with us. Steve is too cool for that and declines but I remember Joey like, nodding that he would or something like that and I was like, "really you're going to smoke with us? I like you already".
I can't believe I signed off my game to read this. What the fuck is wrong with me, anyway?
I could be leveling shit. Weaver level 46, getting to 47. Three more ranks, motherfuck.
Turns out he's a cancer, which is great because I love my water signs. I mean, four out of four of my serious relationships were with water signs.
I read that first sentence literally when I first saw it. Then I saw the other bullshit.
I will agree he is a cancer, but the kind that should be excised.
And we all talked about music briefly and out of all the guys there, I approved of his taste the most. Hell, we even debated the existence of aliens and he's a believer, his friends aren't.
The Eldar are capricious and deceitful by nature.
So all the men there kept losing points but here's Joey, win win winning one after another.
The galaxy cannot know peace until only man remains.
But then it started getting late and I wanted to go home, but Aly wouldn't come with me. I get panicky when I have to drive by myself, especially seeing as I had no clue where I was....
Huh, your slut friend turned out to be a slut.
That was really difficult to see coming.
I'd never been in Edina before. But dumbass me had to go and turn the whole argument into criticizing her parenting abilities since she wouldn't go home to her son, and how she's a bad friend for making me go alone when she knows how I get in situations like that.
You know not to take sides (especially when I find both sides so gross) but I have to side with you on this one. She is a bad mother and a bad friend. She should at least go home to her bastard because I'm sure he doesn't know his father.
Son of a thousand fathers, all bastards like you.
Man, that was a great movie. The Good, The Bad and the Ugly. Great movie, or greatest movie?
But she wouldn't budge, and I got pissed and started lecturing her. And when that didn't work I started panicking. Like, full on can't catch my breath sort of panicking.
Ever consider getting new friends?
Holy Christ this story goes on and on about shit I don't care about.
Here's how it ends, basically: "I'm a dumb slut and all my friends are dumb sluts too and Joey is a complete tool factory."
There, saved everyone fifteen paragraphs of nonsense.
I can't handle any other classes. I can't tolerate psychology. It's actually really fascinating. I do all the required reading and don't feel as if I'm being pushed against my will, but for some reason I just can't stick with the routine.
Oh man, psychology.
Took notes for the girl with some kind of palsy of some kind.
School offers me money for that shit but nah, I'm too cool for that shit.
I gave her my master copy notes, too, because I'm just taking notes for my own amusement in class. I don't need them.
Everyone liked me in that class because I'm pretty stand up and excel naturally.
Every week we're assigned 15-30 pages of easy reading, an article from the most current psychological studies and we have to write a one page paper summarizing the article for seminar.
Sounds vaguely like the class I took.
Although there was way more reading.
I attend class, I do the reading, I participate in seminar, but SOMEHOW I seem to be missing 4 out of the 5 summaries we've written.
Attend class, shoot the shit with the palsy girl, talk to that weird guy in the back, make fun of the weirder guy up in the front of the room-- good times.
It seems like the times that I actually do it, it turns out to be one of the weeks where we just have discussion. Or it was supposed to be turned in early.
What's it like knowing you were born inferior?
Or I can't make it to a printer and still make it to the session on time. I'm starting to think that maybe I'm not cut out for college. Maybe the only thing I'll ever be good at is art. I mean, I can whip out a pretty decent painting in under two hours, a feat that seems to stun everyone.
Common birth, common man.
No where. I have no job prospects. And plus I know that's not my calling. I know my purpose in life is to help people, with my interest in humanitarian issues and the human mind. But I've gotta face it, I can't do college.
I'm deeply interested in humanitarian issues, too.
I am a humanitarian.
It's funny because lately I've been thinking about what exactly it is that I'm searching for from leaving Michael, and I'm coming up short. It's like the more I think about it, the less it makes sense.
I actually found out there's a name for my own unique brand of philosophy. It's called consequentialism and some pussies have called it the direst philosophical stance you can take, beyond even pessimism and fatalism.
I disagree, though.
Consequentialism is really just a natural extension of pessimism. Pessimism just states people are assholes. Consequentialism addresses what you can do about it.
I remember in my college philosophy class the professor said he hoped we would discover a world outlook that would avoid consequentialism.
That's pretty rude, really. What if I said "well gee, professor, I hope you discover a worldview that avoids Christianity"? I'd be thrown out, I bet.
The more ridiculous it seems that I just simply wanted to try something else. The more people I'm around, the more I realize I wouldn't ever want to be with them.
For all our differences we sure reached the same conclusion about people.
Of course, I wouldn't turn the phrase "wouldn't ever" (hint: never is a word).
I start to wish I could go back and skip all the bad parts, just cut them out. And just when I start to notice the little feeble voice in the back of my head that tells me there's really nothing more that I'm looking for, he goes and practically gets a new girlfriend. It occurred to me the other day that I can't exactly imagine myself really spending life with anyone else.
Oh you were talking about some dumb boyfriend. I was speaking about humanity at large.
Yeah I don't understand the negativity these philosophers have about consequentialism. It just states that the consequences of an action determine whether its ethical or not. I understand that does allow for some extreme interpretations (like killing people for personal gain) but there's still room for ethical altruism.
In fact, ultimately I think it's the most honest position you can take on an issue. You can have the best of intentions but if you're an asshole, you're an asshole.
I don't know if I could tolerate anyone else and I don't know if anyone else could tolerate me.
I can't imagine myself tolerating you.
That's okay, though, someone told me recently I'm not the most tolerant person ever.
Man, I've had some lip.
I'm intolerant, I have a dangerous worldview--
but I took notes for palsy girl for 0 economic gain, which I could have had.
Oh well.
Jesus Christ was much maligned in his own time, too.
But practically the same day that this occurs to me, I find out he's going for someone else. It must be a sign, right?
And yes I just compared myself to Jesus Christ.
I get this sick feeling that I'm getting a whopping dose of karma. I mean, I know I've wanted to be alone. & I haven't had that much of an interest in any guy, at least not in the way where I'd want to date them.
Not how karma works~
So here’s what happened:
Black and white, untainted by emotion, clear and simple…
Once upon a time, I had a friend named Nik. We spent the summer together, having fun just trying to get over life.
So I think we've established this is "girl who always needs to be in a relationship".
But what have her relationships accomplished?
Nothing but misery as near as I can tell.
So they're completely worthless.
Needless to say we developed feelings for each other, since we’d been spending all our time together and we honestly had no one else. Things went too far when we were both in a black-out stupor.
As things tend to do when you're in a blackout stupor.
In all of your years on this earth have you ever heard a story that contains the phrase "blackout stupor" that ends with "and everything turned out better than expected"?
I remember only him whispering in my ear, “please, please, please” and the marks left on my skin… and I remember feeling trapped, not knowing how I ended up soaking wet on the floor of my bedroom, not knowing where to go from there…
Step 1: determine why you're soaked
Step 2: hope it isn't urine
& he’d tell me, “Kelsey you’re so sexy, with that compact little waist and belly button piercing… Those little pointed shoulders, just the kind that I like…”
All right calm down, Green River Killer.
Long story short: they're both assholes.
I feel like I conclude that a lot.
I haven't even gotten to talk about my therapist yet. She's typical. She's this older lady that's not really THAT old but her hair's grey from a life of stress and she talks with a funny accent. But she was nice enough. I just really felt like she didn't REALLY understand anything I said. It seemed like she took everything I said in the wrong way because she was trying to fit me into some stereotypical psychopath category.
You are fucking nuts.
And full of yourself.
And a bad person.
Kinda like all she understood of humans and their thoughts and behavior came from textbooks. Maybe I only think that because once she thought she had me figured out, she read me what she thought my condition was out of a fucking textbook.
I've figured you out from this blog. All you need to do is forward it to a good brain shrinker and he'd figure it right the fuck out.
You have narcissistic and self destructive tendencies and you might also be bipolar.
But unlike a shrink I don't believe this is a chemical thing. I think it's a lack of character on your part. You are a weak person.
Then after I got home, my mom called me to "check on how everything went". I guess she was really concerned about how I was doing, as if going to therapy is going to make me go all crazy and kill myself. I'm already fucking crazy, therapy isn't going to bring up something I haven't already thought about and accepted.
The only solution I can think of is adversity.
Maybe teach in a shitty school for a bit. That'll give you some perspective.
3. The only tv channels I watch are History, Discovery, and Comedy.
I'm sure she writes this like I'm supposed to think she's smart but the History Channel is one of the more intellectually bankrupt channels I've had the misfortune of watching recently.
Also much like MTV, there isn't much history on the History Channel.
23 - A picture of your favorite book.
I loooooove Holden so fucking much. <3 I know so many people that didn't like this book, but for me, Holden is what makes the book. I identify with him so well. Some times I can't resist pretending my guts were shot out and I really do love my ear flap hat.
The book was Catcher in the Rye and you're not supposed to like Holden. He's supposed to remind you of yourself and he's a spoiled brat.
I guess you're not mature enough to understand it, though.
I wouldn't say you're supposed to hate him but "love" definitely isn't the emotion the author was going for with Holden.
I mean, people would probably tell me, "you have a boyfriend that loves you, you have nothing to complain about"... but what they don't see is how rejected by everyone else I am.
NO ONE UNDERSSSSSSSTAAAAAAAAAAAAAANDS MEEEEEEEEEEEEE. I waited a long time for this sentence but I knew it was coming.
I think people expect me to be happy because I have one person in my life that accepts me. They just don't realize that sometimes, that's not enough. Sometimes you just need an actual, legitimate friend. Actually I don't even need that. I just need someone to fucking be HONEST.
Oh I can be honest with you.
That was a pretty medieval stance I took earlier saying that her mental illness is her fault but sometimes you're not chemically imbalanced, you're just an asshole.
It's what I keep trying to beat into you people. Sometimes you are weak and unworthy and it's not your Asperger's or your mental illness or your ADHD. It's just because you lack willpower.
In fact, usually, it is no one's fault but your own.
Sometimes I feel like no one actually gets it. I feel like I'm the only one on this frequency... & it's not like I'm wishing someone else would get on my channel... I just wish there was another one at least next to me.
Look, I'm not asking for perfection, here. I'm just asking you own up to your bullshit.
And it's not okay but you can make it okay.
But you won't because you're miserable.
Oooooooooooh man.
Well I'm going to go do something more productive with my time.
Like go to bed, even.
Oh yeah, that's right: sleeping is more productive than reading this crap.
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