2 months ago
Thursday, November 11, 2010
Sunday, July 11, 2010
You know what I hate about internet porn?
The fact that I always feel inclined to "save" the pics. It's like I have to make my own personal collection, or else I won't feel satisfied. I'm quite meticulous about it as well. I organize my folders, based on websites I found them from, artists, the name of the series the fanart is from. One of my favorite folders: "Pokemon". Quite a few hot guys on there. Bruno of the Elite Four, Lt. Surge, Byron, hell I can't them of them all. Another one of my favorite folders: "Doushinjis" or comics/manga. There's nothing better than bara porn than a story that goes along with it. I back my collection up on adrive.com where anyone can get 50GB worth of storage space for free. The beauty of it is you can upload folders and you don't have to go through the hassle of uploading individual files. I already have about 12GB of my collection uploaded on there, but that doesn't include the straight hentai animes, the yaoi animes, or the gay Tube8 videos I have. I'm not gonna bother uploading videos on there. Need room for pics. The irony of all this? I don't even look through my entire collection. I don't have the time to. I'm a total rat-packer when it comes to porn; I just save it for the sake of knowing that I have it.
Btw, the only yaoi animes I have are "Sensitive Pornograph" (totally bishie) and "Legend of the Blue Wolves" (totally bara, but no cumshots *sad face)
Btw, the only yaoi animes I have are "Sensitive Pornograph" (totally bishie) and "Legend of the Blue Wolves" (totally bara, but no cumshots *sad face)
Saturday, July 10, 2010
M.I.A.
I'm way too inconsistent with posting on here. Anyways, thought I'd make a random post. It's summer and I'm home from college. Went to Walmart today, saw these two guys, they look pretty built. I assumed they were a couple. I made some discreet glances. And they wouldn't have noticed, I never stared... long. Besides, I was shopping with my mom. lol
I must really be a dude, since I always talk about sex and porn on here. Speaking of porn, I hardly look at it much anymore, although lately, I seem to be picking it up again. I waste my days lately playing video games, as well as surfin' the net. I also seemed to be obsessed playing games on gsn.com, trying to collect enough points for prizes. I also seem to be falling into playing Grand Theft Auto games again; just III and Vice City though. In my opinion, those were the best ones. But I'm biased saying that because I'm too cheap to buy the newer ones. The latest one I own is San Andreas, but that map was just too big for me. Vice City's the best.
I don't think I ever said much about myself, not like this at least. But lately, I feel like I couldn't care less if someone connected this blog to me. I think it'd save me the time and effort of having to come out to someone. I think I'd rather come out when questioned. I don't need to tell anyone if they're not curious.
I must really be a dude, since I always talk about sex and porn on here. Speaking of porn, I hardly look at it much anymore, although lately, I seem to be picking it up again. I waste my days lately playing video games, as well as surfin' the net. I also seemed to be obsessed playing games on gsn.com, trying to collect enough points for prizes. I also seem to be falling into playing Grand Theft Auto games again; just III and Vice City though. In my opinion, those were the best ones. But I'm biased saying that because I'm too cheap to buy the newer ones. The latest one I own is San Andreas, but that map was just too big for me. Vice City's the best.
I don't think I ever said much about myself, not like this at least. But lately, I feel like I couldn't care less if someone connected this blog to me. I think it'd save me the time and effort of having to come out to someone. I think I'd rather come out when questioned. I don't need to tell anyone if they're not curious.
Friday, June 11, 2010
867-5309
One thing that I am very, very guilty of is that I never call to stay in touch with friends. Hell I never even send emails, post on their Facebook walls, or keep up with them using any sort of communication. If I see them in person, I'll usually say hi, unless of course I ignore them. Not because I intend to be rude or to snub them like that, but because I assume that my presence is not desired or they might think: "Who the hell is this guy saying hi to me?" "Do I know this person?" But even that's not an excuse. I should say hi regardless.
In the rare times that I do talk with friends online or over the phone, I actually enjoy it thoroughly. I tend to drag out a conversation if I get really into it. And I'd say it's because of my lack of having anyone to talk to is why I'd be so eager to keep a conversation. The weirdest thing for me about having conversations with people, is that I'm never one to ask questions. I don't know what to ask people, I'd rather they asked me questions. I like talking, I just don't know what to ask, because I'm afraid of over-stepping boundaries. I don't think there is such a thing as a bad question. However, there are just certain questions that people don't want to give answers to. Very personal questions are taboo, but what's ironic is that deep inside ourselves, I feel that we do want to give answers to those types of questions because we just want to be honest. But we evade them for fear of being rejected or of alienating other people away from us.
I don't know if there really is any question that I would not be willing to answer. Hell I don't know if anyone would want to bother asking me such questions because they would already know by then that I love, love, love to think and I sometimes give out answers in forms of speeches or long-drawn out essays. I like to put so much thought into my answers, I don't think anyone would want to hear it because they'd get lost, get bored, and it would hurt their fragile vegetable minds which never like to think of these things.
But I love insightful questions about a person's personality. What better and easier way to get to know someone? There's also the issue of overthinking an answer. Or like, you can give the same answer all the time, but the other person won't believe you until you give them the answer they want to hear.
Since when did standards on how to approach people and how to connect with them, exist? I laugh at the way of life we've created for ourselves. We create the illusion that we are happy, that we are close... But we may have more people and bigger cities, but that also means that there's more people with even lonelier hearts. I'm certain everyone has had those moments where they contemplate life, and how they think about their relationships with other people. I bet they feel that there's no validity to it, nothing of value, and that it's nothing more than a facade that was created to show a false sense of happiness. Empty relationships I say.
Sure, I do have friends, but most of them are more like mere acquaintances to me. Most of the relationships I have are like we'll just say hi whenever we pass by, or like we'll talk for a little while and then never do until like after days or weeks... or even months. And then we'll pick up with a casual conversation as if everything is the same. There are of course a few friends who are a little closer to me, and some who even have an inkling of understand how my mind works, and for those few, I am grateful. But even to them, they don't fully know me. Well actually, the only things my closest group of friends don't know is that I have a preference for men, and they don't know the radical ideas I have on how I think the world should work. But my ideals for the world is another story, for another time.
And then come my parents. You'd think I'd be closest to them... not necessarily. Let me give you a little background on my childhood:
I never really hung out with friends outside of school; I only met with them during school. Elementary school, I was a carefree child and I was very friendly. Then came middle school, and I began to realize the loneliness I had in my heart. I think middle school was the time when I realized that people could actually be mean. I remember crying a lot back then, for weird reasons I think. Maybe someone made fun of me for being weird, and it might've not been a very harsh comment, but a joking one for their own amusement. But I'm a very sensitive guy and still am to this day, so I take personal comments seriously. I can't remember. Middle school was such a blur for me, I can hardly remember it. I didn't stay at the same middle school from 6th to 8th grade though. I moved and changed schools while I was in 7th grade. I used to live in New Jersey, and for some reason, the middle school kids there were kinda mean, even the teachers. But then I moved to Florida, and the people here are kinda nicer for some reason. When I moved, I felt like I had a clean slate again, that I could strip away those bad vibes I had, and surely I did.
But after awhile, I was beginning to lose touch, again. Once again, I never really hung out with friends outside of school. I did make friends with kids who lived near me in Florida though, but even that was a bust eventually. What's sad is that the combination of having ultra-proctective parents and a society where the only way to get around is by car... well it's not the best combination for hanging out with friends.
There was this one time, where I saw I friend who I met my freshman year in high school. We talked for a bit, but then we talked about how our summers were so far. And I ended up breaking in tears because I told my friend how I never hang out with anyone and that I'm probably a bad friend because of that. Or maybe I cried because I was so lonely. But this friend, I never talk to her anymore, but she told me that it's okay and that I'm a great guy to be friends with. She even sent me an email saying the same thing. That was one of the nicest things anyone has ever said to me. I don't remember the exact words, but that was the gist of it. I cried out of joy after hearing that. But then my mom saw me, and asked me why I was crying. She had a "concerned" look on her face, she clearly showed she cared about my feelings. But then I told her why, and I said it was because I felt lonely that I didn't have anyone to hang out with and that I was touched by the nice things my friend said about me.
You think she'd show some compassion and share the warm moment with me. The worst that could happen did happen... She got all mad at me for no reason, yelled at me even. She yelled: "You have a family that loves you, why should you feel lonely?!" I love my family, there's no question about it. But after that day, I really began to distance myself from my mom. She's much more insecure than me actually. She's the type of my who's very clingy to her children, doesn't even have much friends too. I'd say that was definitely a defining moment for me. It's one of the events that caused me to be the distant person I am today.
I don't know if I'm willing to put up with such "human" insecurity really. It's seems all too troublesome. I'd talk more about my family, but that's another story, for another time.
My Final Thought:
"Relationships should be easy. But is there any validity in saying that they're supposed to be complicated because we're 'human'? What is human? It's just a word. A relationship can be with anything that feels and thinks on its own. There will inevitably be some insecurity in any relationship, no matter what. But it's up to us to reach out to other people, even if it means putting ourselves in a vulnerable state, leaving ourselves open to rejection. I think it's safe to say that we've all given ourselves this similar piece of advice, but it is perhaps the most hardest to act on. But let's face it: If you never give a chance, then you'll never know what could've been. Until next time, take care of yourselves, and each other."
Audience: (cheers) "JER-RY! JER-RY! JER-RY! JER-RY!"
In the rare times that I do talk with friends online or over the phone, I actually enjoy it thoroughly. I tend to drag out a conversation if I get really into it. And I'd say it's because of my lack of having anyone to talk to is why I'd be so eager to keep a conversation. The weirdest thing for me about having conversations with people, is that I'm never one to ask questions. I don't know what to ask people, I'd rather they asked me questions. I like talking, I just don't know what to ask, because I'm afraid of over-stepping boundaries. I don't think there is such a thing as a bad question. However, there are just certain questions that people don't want to give answers to. Very personal questions are taboo, but what's ironic is that deep inside ourselves, I feel that we do want to give answers to those types of questions because we just want to be honest. But we evade them for fear of being rejected or of alienating other people away from us.
I don't know if there really is any question that I would not be willing to answer. Hell I don't know if anyone would want to bother asking me such questions because they would already know by then that I love, love, love to think and I sometimes give out answers in forms of speeches or long-drawn out essays. I like to put so much thought into my answers, I don't think anyone would want to hear it because they'd get lost, get bored, and it would hurt their fragile vegetable minds which never like to think of these things.
But I love insightful questions about a person's personality. What better and easier way to get to know someone? There's also the issue of overthinking an answer. Or like, you can give the same answer all the time, but the other person won't believe you until you give them the answer they want to hear.
Since when did standards on how to approach people and how to connect with them, exist? I laugh at the way of life we've created for ourselves. We create the illusion that we are happy, that we are close... But we may have more people and bigger cities, but that also means that there's more people with even lonelier hearts. I'm certain everyone has had those moments where they contemplate life, and how they think about their relationships with other people. I bet they feel that there's no validity to it, nothing of value, and that it's nothing more than a facade that was created to show a false sense of happiness. Empty relationships I say.
Sure, I do have friends, but most of them are more like mere acquaintances to me. Most of the relationships I have are like we'll just say hi whenever we pass by, or like we'll talk for a little while and then never do until like after days or weeks... or even months. And then we'll pick up with a casual conversation as if everything is the same. There are of course a few friends who are a little closer to me, and some who even have an inkling of understand how my mind works, and for those few, I am grateful. But even to them, they don't fully know me. Well actually, the only things my closest group of friends don't know is that I have a preference for men, and they don't know the radical ideas I have on how I think the world should work. But my ideals for the world is another story, for another time.
And then come my parents. You'd think I'd be closest to them... not necessarily. Let me give you a little background on my childhood:
I never really hung out with friends outside of school; I only met with them during school. Elementary school, I was a carefree child and I was very friendly. Then came middle school, and I began to realize the loneliness I had in my heart. I think middle school was the time when I realized that people could actually be mean. I remember crying a lot back then, for weird reasons I think. Maybe someone made fun of me for being weird, and it might've not been a very harsh comment, but a joking one for their own amusement. But I'm a very sensitive guy and still am to this day, so I take personal comments seriously. I can't remember. Middle school was such a blur for me, I can hardly remember it. I didn't stay at the same middle school from 6th to 8th grade though. I moved and changed schools while I was in 7th grade. I used to live in New Jersey, and for some reason, the middle school kids there were kinda mean, even the teachers. But then I moved to Florida, and the people here are kinda nicer for some reason. When I moved, I felt like I had a clean slate again, that I could strip away those bad vibes I had, and surely I did.
But after awhile, I was beginning to lose touch, again. Once again, I never really hung out with friends outside of school. I did make friends with kids who lived near me in Florida though, but even that was a bust eventually. What's sad is that the combination of having ultra-proctective parents and a society where the only way to get around is by car... well it's not the best combination for hanging out with friends.
There was this one time, where I saw I friend who I met my freshman year in high school. We talked for a bit, but then we talked about how our summers were so far. And I ended up breaking in tears because I told my friend how I never hang out with anyone and that I'm probably a bad friend because of that. Or maybe I cried because I was so lonely. But this friend, I never talk to her anymore, but she told me that it's okay and that I'm a great guy to be friends with. She even sent me an email saying the same thing. That was one of the nicest things anyone has ever said to me. I don't remember the exact words, but that was the gist of it. I cried out of joy after hearing that. But then my mom saw me, and asked me why I was crying. She had a "concerned" look on her face, she clearly showed she cared about my feelings. But then I told her why, and I said it was because I felt lonely that I didn't have anyone to hang out with and that I was touched by the nice things my friend said about me.
You think she'd show some compassion and share the warm moment with me. The worst that could happen did happen... She got all mad at me for no reason, yelled at me even. She yelled: "You have a family that loves you, why should you feel lonely?!" I love my family, there's no question about it. But after that day, I really began to distance myself from my mom. She's much more insecure than me actually. She's the type of my who's very clingy to her children, doesn't even have much friends too. I'd say that was definitely a defining moment for me. It's one of the events that caused me to be the distant person I am today.
I don't know if I'm willing to put up with such "human" insecurity really. It's seems all too troublesome. I'd talk more about my family, but that's another story, for another time.
My Final Thought:
"Relationships should be easy. But is there any validity in saying that they're supposed to be complicated because we're 'human'? What is human? It's just a word. A relationship can be with anything that feels and thinks on its own. There will inevitably be some insecurity in any relationship, no matter what. But it's up to us to reach out to other people, even if it means putting ourselves in a vulnerable state, leaving ourselves open to rejection. I think it's safe to say that we've all given ourselves this similar piece of advice, but it is perhaps the most hardest to act on. But let's face it: If you never give a chance, then you'll never know what could've been. Until next time, take care of yourselves, and each other."
Audience: (cheers) "JER-RY! JER-RY! JER-RY! JER-RY!"
Thursday, June 10, 2010
I Don't Give People A Chance
I don't think I do. I mean usually I don't give a fuck about people, I just let them be. It's not that I don't hate them or that I don't love them, I just want them to be themselves as much as I want to be me. But what I mean to say is I don't think I give people a chance to try to understand me. And the reason I don't give people a chance to do that is because I believe that such a task would be too hard for them and they probably wouldn't want to try. I think they'd quit out of frustration after trying. But it's self-defeating really. Hell... everytime someone tries to give me advice, there's a good chance I know what they're gonna say:
-I'm too pessimistic
-I think too much
-I worry too much
-I don't make any sense
-What's there to understand
And usually what happens afterwards, I contemplate what they've said to me. Next, I end up thinking about how I'm wrong or what I should change about myself. But as always, I go back to thinking: "I'm perfectly fine the way I am. They're just trying to trick me into thinking differently about myself when I'm the only one who's knows myself best."
It's my own fault for self-stigmatizing myself as being pessimistic. But even if I am pessimistic, I don't feel that depressed at all. I feel better after ranting on I don't know what. If I let anything out, I feel good afterwards. Crying. It's like expelling sadness and stress from the body so that it can function for happiness once more.
But the real question is: "If I feel content with myself, then why the hell am I writing this anyway?" Because I feel like it, and I need some place to rant.
Just recently, a friend of mine on Facebook (which I don't feel close to anyone really, not even my own family) said to me that he think I have a personality disorder. What do I have to say to that? In terms of evaluating me based on society's standards, I fully fucking agree. But my opinion of myself? Part of me agrees, although deep down, I feel normal to myself. He said I should get counseling. And I'll do, hell why not? I like to take life as it comes, and usually it does turn out fine. Usually in anything I do, I at least recognize one thing I may have earned/learned from the experience, even if it was a bad one. Even in losing, there's always something to be gained... sometimes.
But you know, everytime someone talks to me about my 'flaws', I do listen. But in such an argument, it really only serves to feed my ego in the long-run. When it comes to giving honest opinions to other people about what I think about them, I don't expect them to believe what I say. For all I know, I could be completely wrong about a person. I never really say much about other people, because quite frankly, no one ever really says much about me. Do I want to hear other people's opinions about me? Sometimes, but usually I don't care.
I wonder how many people who know me in person take my apathy as being a bad thing. I don't intend it to be a bad thing actually; my real intent is to just be carefree about everything and to just accept things at face-value. Say what you mean and show it.
It's also obvious that as I'm saying all this, that's I'm implying that I'm in the minority somehow. That no one understands me and all that "boo-frickity-hoo" bullshit. But I want to make a point about that idea actually...
A member of the majority, someone who is in the "In" group, would have no reason to defend their lifestyle nor their personality because they are deemed by society as being "normal". It's very hard for a member of the "In" group and for a member of the "Out" group to understand each other, because figuratively speaking: they live in separate worlds.
Everytime I rant like this, how I put up a show about how life's not fair for me... actually, I think life has been very kind to me actually. But my point is, I don't think I'm pessimistic. Pessimism to me is just a word. We assign words for everything because it makes the universe around us easier to understand, but then we create such a polarized system of morals. Everything can only be good or bad, and for some things, we don't like having anything inbetween. I don't know why, most people just accept the labels without really question why they're labeled so. I think the biggest reason why I intentionally make it look like I'm pessimistic is to just confirm people's suspicions about me. Everyone does it, we all make assumptions about what other people think of us even though we really don't know how they perceive us. And of course, I go about it the wrong way. Not everyone thinks I'm negative, most of my friends who are somewhat close to me understand me to an extent, or may even find me insightful. I never intended to be negative.
My problem is that I find hope in the weirdest and probably in the wrong places. I enjoy reading or watching something tragic from time to time, partly because it makes me appreciate everything I have at the moment. I also like negative emotions, sadness even. I like it best when it's sincere, because if I see a character in a movie or book, I feel I can actually relate to that feeling. I just find a sort of grotesque beauty about it. But if it's like a sappy drama, I'll totally hate it.
And now I've lost my train of thought, as always. Anyways, what I really want is for everyone to just shut up and listen, to just take everyone's word and to accept it as question. I don't hide anything about myself (most things), I just shut up about it to certain people so I can save myself for the trouble of falling into a pointless argument with another person who's just too closed off to even try to understand my feelings. When it comes to dealing with people, I usually take a defensive stance when approaching them, hardly ever an offensive one. If I don't want anyone getting in my face telling me who I am and who I should be, then I wouldn't do the same to other people.
I shall leave you all with a quote from one of my heroes, Daria Morgendorffer:
"I don't have low self-esteem. It's a mistake. I have low esteem for everyone else."
-I'm too pessimistic
-I think too much
-I worry too much
-I don't make any sense
-What's there to understand
And usually what happens afterwards, I contemplate what they've said to me. Next, I end up thinking about how I'm wrong or what I should change about myself. But as always, I go back to thinking: "I'm perfectly fine the way I am. They're just trying to trick me into thinking differently about myself when I'm the only one who's knows myself best."
It's my own fault for self-stigmatizing myself as being pessimistic. But even if I am pessimistic, I don't feel that depressed at all. I feel better after ranting on I don't know what. If I let anything out, I feel good afterwards. Crying. It's like expelling sadness and stress from the body so that it can function for happiness once more.
But the real question is: "If I feel content with myself, then why the hell am I writing this anyway?" Because I feel like it, and I need some place to rant.
Just recently, a friend of mine on Facebook (which I don't feel close to anyone really, not even my own family) said to me that he think I have a personality disorder. What do I have to say to that? In terms of evaluating me based on society's standards, I fully fucking agree. But my opinion of myself? Part of me agrees, although deep down, I feel normal to myself. He said I should get counseling. And I'll do, hell why not? I like to take life as it comes, and usually it does turn out fine. Usually in anything I do, I at least recognize one thing I may have earned/learned from the experience, even if it was a bad one. Even in losing, there's always something to be gained... sometimes.
But you know, everytime someone talks to me about my 'flaws', I do listen. But in such an argument, it really only serves to feed my ego in the long-run. When it comes to giving honest opinions to other people about what I think about them, I don't expect them to believe what I say. For all I know, I could be completely wrong about a person. I never really say much about other people, because quite frankly, no one ever really says much about me. Do I want to hear other people's opinions about me? Sometimes, but usually I don't care.
I wonder how many people who know me in person take my apathy as being a bad thing. I don't intend it to be a bad thing actually; my real intent is to just be carefree about everything and to just accept things at face-value. Say what you mean and show it.
It's also obvious that as I'm saying all this, that's I'm implying that I'm in the minority somehow. That no one understands me and all that "boo-frickity-hoo" bullshit. But I want to make a point about that idea actually...
A member of the majority, someone who is in the "In" group, would have no reason to defend their lifestyle nor their personality because they are deemed by society as being "normal". It's very hard for a member of the "In" group and for a member of the "Out" group to understand each other, because figuratively speaking: they live in separate worlds.
Everytime I rant like this, how I put up a show about how life's not fair for me... actually, I think life has been very kind to me actually. But my point is, I don't think I'm pessimistic. Pessimism to me is just a word. We assign words for everything because it makes the universe around us easier to understand, but then we create such a polarized system of morals. Everything can only be good or bad, and for some things, we don't like having anything inbetween. I don't know why, most people just accept the labels without really question why they're labeled so. I think the biggest reason why I intentionally make it look like I'm pessimistic is to just confirm people's suspicions about me. Everyone does it, we all make assumptions about what other people think of us even though we really don't know how they perceive us. And of course, I go about it the wrong way. Not everyone thinks I'm negative, most of my friends who are somewhat close to me understand me to an extent, or may even find me insightful. I never intended to be negative.
My problem is that I find hope in the weirdest and probably in the wrong places. I enjoy reading or watching something tragic from time to time, partly because it makes me appreciate everything I have at the moment. I also like negative emotions, sadness even. I like it best when it's sincere, because if I see a character in a movie or book, I feel I can actually relate to that feeling. I just find a sort of grotesque beauty about it. But if it's like a sappy drama, I'll totally hate it.
And now I've lost my train of thought, as always. Anyways, what I really want is for everyone to just shut up and listen, to just take everyone's word and to accept it as question. I don't hide anything about myself (most things), I just shut up about it to certain people so I can save myself for the trouble of falling into a pointless argument with another person who's just too closed off to even try to understand my feelings. When it comes to dealing with people, I usually take a defensive stance when approaching them, hardly ever an offensive one. If I don't want anyone getting in my face telling me who I am and who I should be, then I wouldn't do the same to other people.
I shall leave you all with a quote from one of my heroes, Daria Morgendorffer:
"I don't have low self-esteem. It's a mistake. I have low esteem for everyone else."
Lost For Words
Don't you just hate it when you want to get something off your mind, but then you stop yourself from saying it for fear of having your own words used against you? Or actually, I just never blog as much as I used to because I want to say so much, yet midway, I look at what I've typed so far and I usually say to myself: "Oh, that's not right, better fix that." or "That sounds stupid, I better take that off." Or I just lose my train of thought and I get lazy and I don't feel like finishing.
Everytime I censor myself, even here of all places where I choose to be anonymous, I feel like I'm destroying a part of myself, or I feel I'm just building up the tension within me and I'm just gonna explode one day... well not really.
Even as I'm making this now, I'm constantly thinking about how I'm gonna say it, and then I overthink it. Oh fuck it, I'll just write as I think even if it doesn't make sense, and even if there are errors. Let the rants begin.
Everytime I censor myself, even here of all places where I choose to be anonymous, I feel like I'm destroying a part of myself, or I feel I'm just building up the tension within me and I'm just gonna explode one day... well not really.
Even as I'm making this now, I'm constantly thinking about how I'm gonna say it, and then I overthink it. Oh fuck it, I'll just write as I think even if it doesn't make sense, and even if there are errors. Let the rants begin.
Sunday, April 18, 2010
No Strings Attached
I can think I'm a good person, other people can think the same way of me as well. But the fact of the matter is, I'm still an asshole. I'm an asshole in the sense that in the end, I'm really a terrible friend. I think too much about my relationships with people. I let distance keep me away from talking to them over the phone or online. I assume that no one understands me, so I don't bother getting close to anyone. I give out mixed messages. First I'm really excited about meeting someone new, then I avoid them once I feel just only one instance of awkwardness where I feel that I'm just not compatible with someone. Sometimes I assume that I'm just too different for that person. Other times, I avoid people because I get the feeling they don't accept my personality.
When it comes to my anonymous friends online (you know who you are), I'm an asshole to them as well (except for one I think). It's like I want to find other people like myself, and sometimes I search for potential lovers. But in the end, I just chicken out when opportunity knocks. Or I just stop talking to them because I'm too lazy to talk to them (and I use work as an excuse, which is the worst I can do) or when I feel that the other person doesn't understand me anymore, I quit.
That's all I am really: a quitter. I don't seem to give people a chance at all. Or better yet, I just don't give myself a chance to be open. I've been alone for so long, it's the only goddamn feeling I know. I really could come out about my sexuality, my beliefs and thoughts on life, at anytime. The only thing stopping me?: Fear. Fear of my parents mostly. Even if I came up with a contingency plan if my parents abandoned me, I'd still be too afraid to make a move I think. My love for my parents is genuine, I do want to make them happy, and I knowingly do it at the cost of hurting myself. My love for them is out of a sincere love, but as well as a love out of fear. It's more along the lines that I fear hurting them more than I am afraid of them myself.
It's funny really; I don't want to hurt people, not because I know it's bad, but I do it for the most selfish reason of all... because I don't want to have a guilty conscience. Sure, sounds like a pretty self-less thing to do, but my motivation is based on selfishness. I always do feel truly ashamed of myself when I hurt someone else emotionally for being stupid, but sometimes I wonder if I really do care about other people's feelings, or if I just apologize or make nice just to save my own conscience.
Doesn't help with the fact that I'm a big pessimist and I see most of my actions as selfish-oriented. lol
I am a living paradox. I try to reach out to the world, to find some lost souls who can understand me. But I'm never willing to try to open everything about myself to other people, for now that is. So if you think what I post on here is similar to how you feel, great. If you think I'm an okay person based on what you've read: cool. But I give you fair warning: I'm a terrible friend. Don't bother trying to message me if you know you don't want to get hurt or get left in the dust because of my negligence (unless of course you really want to try on me, no matter how much time you may waste).
What's even more ironic is how I'm comfortable being alone, but once in awhile, I need someone to talk to otherwise I'll lose my fucking mind. Just goes to show you how selfish I really am...
When it comes to my anonymous friends online (you know who you are), I'm an asshole to them as well (except for one I think). It's like I want to find other people like myself, and sometimes I search for potential lovers. But in the end, I just chicken out when opportunity knocks. Or I just stop talking to them because I'm too lazy to talk to them (and I use work as an excuse, which is the worst I can do) or when I feel that the other person doesn't understand me anymore, I quit.
That's all I am really: a quitter. I don't seem to give people a chance at all. Or better yet, I just don't give myself a chance to be open. I've been alone for so long, it's the only goddamn feeling I know. I really could come out about my sexuality, my beliefs and thoughts on life, at anytime. The only thing stopping me?: Fear. Fear of my parents mostly. Even if I came up with a contingency plan if my parents abandoned me, I'd still be too afraid to make a move I think. My love for my parents is genuine, I do want to make them happy, and I knowingly do it at the cost of hurting myself. My love for them is out of a sincere love, but as well as a love out of fear. It's more along the lines that I fear hurting them more than I am afraid of them myself.
It's funny really; I don't want to hurt people, not because I know it's bad, but I do it for the most selfish reason of all... because I don't want to have a guilty conscience. Sure, sounds like a pretty self-less thing to do, but my motivation is based on selfishness. I always do feel truly ashamed of myself when I hurt someone else emotionally for being stupid, but sometimes I wonder if I really do care about other people's feelings, or if I just apologize or make nice just to save my own conscience.
Doesn't help with the fact that I'm a big pessimist and I see most of my actions as selfish-oriented. lol
I am a living paradox. I try to reach out to the world, to find some lost souls who can understand me. But I'm never willing to try to open everything about myself to other people, for now that is. So if you think what I post on here is similar to how you feel, great. If you think I'm an okay person based on what you've read: cool. But I give you fair warning: I'm a terrible friend. Don't bother trying to message me if you know you don't want to get hurt or get left in the dust because of my negligence (unless of course you really want to try on me, no matter how much time you may waste).
What's even more ironic is how I'm comfortable being alone, but once in awhile, I need someone to talk to otherwise I'll lose my fucking mind. Just goes to show you how selfish I really am...
Saturday, April 3, 2010
Dreams Dreams
Every night before I go to bed, I wish for a dream. I wish to escape to a dream world: a place where amazing people and wonderful things exist. Even if it is only a dream, I want a place to escape; a place way different from the life I live called "reality". The most pathetic thing of all?: That I'm not willing to try to make my own life exciting if I'm really that bored. But still, every night is always the same. Get in bed, have a moment to myself, then slowly drift away to sleep. My slumber feels as if I've only slept for a few minutes. But those few minutes were actually hours. It's as if in reality, I really am still dreaming. I never find a place to escape to in my dreams. So in my imagination, my daydreams, I think of places to go to. In a way, it makes up for my lack of dreams in my sleep. But my imagination, it is not enough. In reality, I wait. I don't know what I wait for. I just hope that one day...
it will come.
Monday, February 15, 2010
Days That Are Forever Blue
You know, I have quite a few drafts now, none of which I have ever finished. I never finish my thoughts because I have other important things I need to do, or I just lost my train of thought at the time and I just lose all my motivation to finish. I never finish because I have a need to want to make every post perfect, laying everything out... but with that kind of attitude, I'll never get anything finished.
A lot of things can change in such little time. A few months ago I'd always be wasting time looking up porn, and I'd never get any work done because I was too lazy or I kept thinking about how much work that needed to get done, that I wasted more time worrying about it than doing anything about it. But this time, I've decided to just move on and just get as much shit done as possible. I've come to the conclusion that finishing everything ranks up with one of those really hard things to do.
I realize now that I would never do any work because I was preoccupied about other thoughts. I'd always keep thinking about how I don't really have a direction in life, or how I don't feel close to anyone at all. Loneliness was definitely one of the things that ate at me the most. But with all that time thinking alone, I just relearned something and believe in it more than I ever have...
I don't think I really care anymore if I am alone for the rest of my life. I've become quite content with it actually. While it is painful to feel, at the same time I feel a sort of solace or comfort in it. I don't know if I can describe it well, but it's like a heartache. It's kind of painful at first, but after awhile, you get used to it, and you feel as if you're more aware of your own existence; you feel as if you're whole. Sometimes I pretend that my subconcious-self, the part of myself that dreams, is a separate entity, and I feel as if I'm two people instead of one. I label it as my darkside, not necessarily evil, but more like my true self, maybe my true self, but definitely parts of myself I never really share. And this darkness, I personify it as fate, but more like a bully/friend who pushes me to keep me moving forward. No matter if it's into a fortunate situation or an unfortunate one, all of it is meant to allow me to grow as a person.
I think most people would say I'm crazy for thinking I'm two people instead of one, but it's just something I do to keep myself from being bored, or to stay sane probably.
There's nothing I want more than to connect with other people, but I keep debating about its worth in the end. I sometimes wonder what is the point of it all, if we're to face rejection, to become dependent on others when we're just as fine being independent, and if we're fated to say goodbye one day? And by dependency, I mean in terms of emotional needs: having someone listen to your problems, which could be solved or may never be solved because it's something you have to get over yourself. I also fear losing someone and not knowing how to live after being with them for so long.
There have been nights where I listen to love and breakup songs before going to bed. I cry, but after I'm done, I feel good afterwards. Hell, I actually enjoying crying and feeling sad, as weird as that sounds. It doesn't depress me, no. On the contrary, I'm quite happy afterwards, or at most: content.
When I was younger (and even now), I would always try to justify the darkness, or dark feelings; that we needed them and they're not as bad as we make them out to be. Everyone always wants to run after the light, running away from darkness. Why should the darkness be something I should fear when I can embrace instead? There seems to be a lot of it in the world, may as well put it to good use. Being the hopeless romantic I am, I see dark things as secretly wanting to be loved. It's like some girls that always fall for the bad boys, the tough guys that will probably treat them bad in the end. Perhaps they hoped they could find something to love about them, or they were just plain stupid.
But that brings another question: Do I only love the darkness because of the idea of what it could be? What I want it to be? I guess it all just boils down to wanting to change something in order to make it fit. It's really hard to love unconditionally, but perhaps I'm just overthinking things again, like always. I really don't give a shit about what people do with their lives or how they act. So if I'm content with the way people are, I guess I love them unconditionally? I don't know.
Most people would say I'm depressed, and that I'm depressing to others when I talk about things like these. I learned since last year that no one really wants to talk about depressing things. But things such as loneliness doesn't feel depressing to me at all; it's something I've learned to live with. It's one thing to know how you feel, it's another to be told by others what it is you're feeling, implying that you don't know yourself.
So, I live the rest of my days waiting to see if someone will come along that will understand me, but for now, I'll be fine walking alone.
A lot of things can change in such little time. A few months ago I'd always be wasting time looking up porn, and I'd never get any work done because I was too lazy or I kept thinking about how much work that needed to get done, that I wasted more time worrying about it than doing anything about it. But this time, I've decided to just move on and just get as much shit done as possible. I've come to the conclusion that finishing everything ranks up with one of those really hard things to do.
I realize now that I would never do any work because I was preoccupied about other thoughts. I'd always keep thinking about how I don't really have a direction in life, or how I don't feel close to anyone at all. Loneliness was definitely one of the things that ate at me the most. But with all that time thinking alone, I just relearned something and believe in it more than I ever have...
I don't think I really care anymore if I am alone for the rest of my life. I've become quite content with it actually. While it is painful to feel, at the same time I feel a sort of solace or comfort in it. I don't know if I can describe it well, but it's like a heartache. It's kind of painful at first, but after awhile, you get used to it, and you feel as if you're more aware of your own existence; you feel as if you're whole. Sometimes I pretend that my subconcious-self, the part of myself that dreams, is a separate entity, and I feel as if I'm two people instead of one. I label it as my darkside, not necessarily evil, but more like my true self, maybe my true self, but definitely parts of myself I never really share. And this darkness, I personify it as fate, but more like a bully/friend who pushes me to keep me moving forward. No matter if it's into a fortunate situation or an unfortunate one, all of it is meant to allow me to grow as a person.
I think most people would say I'm crazy for thinking I'm two people instead of one, but it's just something I do to keep myself from being bored, or to stay sane probably.
There's nothing I want more than to connect with other people, but I keep debating about its worth in the end. I sometimes wonder what is the point of it all, if we're to face rejection, to become dependent on others when we're just as fine being independent, and if we're fated to say goodbye one day? And by dependency, I mean in terms of emotional needs: having someone listen to your problems, which could be solved or may never be solved because it's something you have to get over yourself. I also fear losing someone and not knowing how to live after being with them for so long.
There have been nights where I listen to love and breakup songs before going to bed. I cry, but after I'm done, I feel good afterwards. Hell, I actually enjoying crying and feeling sad, as weird as that sounds. It doesn't depress me, no. On the contrary, I'm quite happy afterwards, or at most: content.
When I was younger (and even now), I would always try to justify the darkness, or dark feelings; that we needed them and they're not as bad as we make them out to be. Everyone always wants to run after the light, running away from darkness. Why should the darkness be something I should fear when I can embrace instead? There seems to be a lot of it in the world, may as well put it to good use. Being the hopeless romantic I am, I see dark things as secretly wanting to be loved. It's like some girls that always fall for the bad boys, the tough guys that will probably treat them bad in the end. Perhaps they hoped they could find something to love about them, or they were just plain stupid.
But that brings another question: Do I only love the darkness because of the idea of what it could be? What I want it to be? I guess it all just boils down to wanting to change something in order to make it fit. It's really hard to love unconditionally, but perhaps I'm just overthinking things again, like always. I really don't give a shit about what people do with their lives or how they act. So if I'm content with the way people are, I guess I love them unconditionally? I don't know.
Most people would say I'm depressed, and that I'm depressing to others when I talk about things like these. I learned since last year that no one really wants to talk about depressing things. But things such as loneliness doesn't feel depressing to me at all; it's something I've learned to live with. It's one thing to know how you feel, it's another to be told by others what it is you're feeling, implying that you don't know yourself.
So, I live the rest of my days waiting to see if someone will come along that will understand me, but for now, I'll be fine walking alone.
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