I’m really terrified of thunder, and as a way to try and get rid of this stupid but really genuine fear (and because the rain looked wonderful), I decided to go prance around in it on my rooftop. I’ve done this before, and I absolutely loved it, so I thought the enjoyment of rain would help me ignore the thunder. So I grab my rain-dancein’ shirt (yes, I have a special shirt to dance in the rain) and commence my frolic on my rooftop.
This time something was different.
I don’t know why, but about a minute and a half into my complete and utter joy from the rain being so cold, and the air not being so cold, it felt wrong. I just felt so…alone. The cars were passing in front of my house, and people were passing on the sidewalk, so it wasn’t because there weren’t people around. I don’t know why I felt it. Regardless, the fact is still there.
I have never felt more alone.
But the rain usually makes me feel the complete opposite, that the world is alive and awake and thriving and pulsating and feeling! I rushed back into my room and grabbed a towel, and since then, I have been sitting on my floor, trying to figure out why I’m feeling this way. And I haven’t come up with a damn thing.
I just wish I had a friend to dance in the rain with me. I wish a complete stranger would come and dance with me. I just don’t want to be alone tonight. All well. My teddy bear will just have to do.
Normally, I HATE posting things on the spur of the moment. I usually write out huge paragraphs about what I feel, let it sit there for an hour, come back to it after my head has cleared and delete it. I don’t know why I do that. I guess I’m just not used to expressing myself. Whatever, this isn’t about that.
I am angry.
That’s what this is about. I am livid. But what am I doing? - I’m sitting on my mother’s bed typing this out on my phone just so I can let this go and let it away from me. I’m scared. That came out of nowhere. But yeah. That’s true, too.
I’m even angrier NOW, because I can’t even give specifics. I don’t like it when people I know follow me on tumblr. Me on tumblr and me out here are different. Tumblr is where I explore. Explore other’s people’s minds, and while I do that, I’m exploring my own. But here…I don’t have time to sit and explore everything about these people or myself and our reactions, I just do things out of habit. I act certain ways, simply because that’s how I’ve been accustomed to do so. And now I can’t even be angry here. The one truly raw emotion I had. It just rips me up inside, pounding waves to my temples, the only emotion that takes real effort for me to control. That was going to be my starting point. But it can’t.
It’s not that I’m afraid of what people will say about me, they can go fuck themselves, but it’s more of how they’ll act. And yeah, I do want to rant about people. A LOT. Getting confronted and lectured about how I should be grateful for things when the onset of that confrontation was something I posted on TUMBLR? Yeah, no. That’s just ridiculous. I guess I’m too accustomed to controlling my emotions that I’m afraid of a HUGE blow-out that’ll happen if anyone ever actually DID do that.
I’m even a bit miffed when people even refer to things they found on tumblr in their daily lives. It’s like…this is one part of my life, the outside world is another. They shouldn’t overlap.
I am still angry.
I’m just even more angry that I can’t explain WHY I’m angry.
Liaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa you are wonderful :)
Kennnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnn, stop being so dang sweet. :P LOL. If I’m wonderful, you have to be a word that means wonderful times 4. (:
I’m sick of this school. I’m sick of everyone in it. I don’t want to “remember the good times.” I’m most likely NEVER going to see these people again in my life. And if I did want to reminisce, I don’t want to remember most of the girls in my class with their dresses hiked up, grinding on some guy whose name they don’t even know; or remember the guys with their “happy faces” on as their penises get smothered by a strange girl’s ass.
I’d much rather stay home, thank you very much.
But my cousins are going. I’m pretty sure they’re going to make me go. If I do go, I don’t want to dance, or even have a good time. I want to sit there, maybe take a couple of pictures, wait until it’s over, and leave. Just go home. I don’t want to go out at all.
I dont care for more than half of the people I talk to. Why would I want to be surrounded by them in a large group, and everyone dressed up in ways that seems unnatural for them? I just don’t give two craps about people anymore.
Most of the people I started to hang out with in High School, are just fillers - people I talk to just to fill up my day. Yeah sure, it’s alright for a while, but you don’t really care what happens to them afterward. Don’t get me wrong, their a few people I’ll try to keep in touch with, and maybe even a few people I’ll actually miss, but most of them I could live without.
I just don’t like my school anymore. I’d even rather be home….with my over-protective, crazy, beast of a woman mother than be in school anymore.
Never call your mother. Don’t text back the person you’re sleeping with; make sure you wait at least five hours before returning the texts of the numerous people you’re sleeping with. Don’t spend Christmas with your girlfriend or your family. Spend Christmas at a resort with your bro friends and tweet about it. Check in on Foursquare.
Take pictures of the food you’re eating in other countries and post them on Facebook. Take your time ‘figuring out your plan’ while your aging parents extend themselves to pay back your student debt. Brag about your dick size. Brag about your game. Brag about how many beautiful women you have been with this week to the woman you are drunkenly going home with.
Pursue a woman and then lose interest when you finally earn her reciprocation. Go home with a woman, pet her cats when you get in her door at night, and wait until she’s sitting in your lap taking her shirt off to say ‘I’m not really looking for a girlfriend.’ Spend a long time explaining why your disbelief in monogamy is morally superior. Or just don’t talk about it. Master the phase-out.
Complain a lot about shit getting weird, or people getting weird. Describe in depth how it’s always other people’s fault that you are ‘in a situation.’ Say you’re just too nice to everyone and that’s why you’re not happy. Say your friends are always taking advantage of you and that’s why you don’t find the time to go to their shows or their readings or to read their articles. Be way too excited about media from the 1980s. Militantly defend your right to have a serious interest in children’s cartoons.
You could take a lot of pictures of yourself and put them on Facebook, but if you want to do this right, have other people take a lot of pictures of you. Have a girl take a lot of pictures of you. Be Facebook friends with a lot of very pretty girls who have shy, pained looks, are shown cradling little cameras like they are really looking for something nice to take pictures of. Appear in the pictures they took but never be photographed beside them. Be Facebook friends with a lot of very pretty girls who are too cool to put anything in their profiles.
Say you ‘love geeks’ and then make fun of them. Make fun of your friends for all of their interests. Do this aggressively until it’s hurtful. Then laugh a lot and make them feel like they’re weak or too sensitive. They don’t understand your humor.
Send mass texts that say ‘what are you doing tonight’, and choose from the best option. Ask someone who invites you out ‘who else is there.’ Suddenly be on the other side of town if you change your mind about the option. Don’t answer the people who bother to reply with less compelling options. When everyone leaves the bar to go to your friend’s birthday, stay at the bar because you’re ‘trying to get something going on.’ No one will be surprised.
Go to parties and don’t bring any money and suddenly become interested in making friends with the one person at the party who has something you want to consume. Have really great bonding time with that person only on occasions when you and that person are consuming things. Say you will totally get lunch with them sometime and have a realconversation not-fucked-up and never do it. Puke in the sink.
Go to parties and decide to have ‘the talk’ there with someone you’ve been in a fight with or who broke your heart or whose heart you broke. Be those people who are having a really dramatic intense discussion in a corner or on the roof all night and make all the other guests uncomfortable. Do not let the other person escape. Make sure the other person has plenty to drink. Leave the party once they are locked in the bathroom throwing up and worrying others, and ask the person’s friend to take care of them before you leave so that you can feel like you’re a good person.
Steal coats. Steal laptops. Steal people’s shit from parties. Blame ‘the black guys’ who showed up later. Lie about your drinking problem. Lie about your drug problem. Exaggerate about your childhood. Be a victim. Make excuses. Refuse to believe you’re not a really good person. Talk a lot about how you are not well understood. Talk a lot about how you are a survivor and ‘reach out’ to others so you can help them be more like you. Hit reply-all on emails.
Have, like, a really hard time finding a job right now. Complain about the economy. Don’t watch the news, then complain about politics in vague terms. Be aggrieved. Get other people to make you dinner. Get other people to lend you money. Always have an expensive record collection, no matter how hungry you are.
Refuse to look at girls who aren’t skinny. Have an idealized idea of your future partner that no realistic human being can match. Judge everyone for not living up to your expectations. Blame your upbringing, blame your family, blame your poor Mom. Only call her when you are drinking with your friends and when she texts you, make fun of how she doesn’t have the hang of it yet. Make websites about how your parents don’t know how to do modern things. Circulate them at your workplace.
Make tumblrs about yourself. Circulate them on Twitter. Insist on being heard. Leave comments on articles complaining that the article was too long for you to have read.