After yesterday’s incident, I made this journal entry as long as I could make it without boring myself to death.
I read Twilight. For those of you who don’t know the book, it’s the first of a series sweeping the nation that young women were eager to latch onto after August 2007, when JK Rowling unveiled to the world Harry Potter’s last escapade. The story is written in first-person from Isabella “Bella” Swan’s point of view, detailing her misapprehension of the character Edward Cullen, the boy she meets after moving to Forks and her object of infatuation. While this is a common psychosis known to happen throughout high school, Stephanie Meyer’s prose is lackluster, inconsequential, and an over-idealized perception that molds “perfect” into the minds of women. It’s no surprise that many of these women iconoclast men, hoping that such a person they swoon over as Edward Cullen could be a veritable and tangible person. And I just think that’s a bit nutty. It’s good to have an idea of what you think would make a good partner, but you’re hoping for more than you will ever get. Why? Such a person does not exist. I hope someone has hammered the point into your head by now that perfection does not exist in human form. I do not understand why people feel so inclined to go so far as to use their teeth to rip someone’s clothes off in order to mate with somebody fictional or even real. It’s animalistic. I’m glad at least some humans have evolved whereas the ones who haven’t mentally fuck like bunny rabbits. Have I ever been obsessed with somebody? Yes. What have I learned? You put this story together in your head about this person, inking out any misfiring neurons that tell you that what you’re doing is stupid when you write your thoughts on your mind script, and invent these impossible scenarios that cast you as the main character and your celebrated crush in some quasi-melodramatic moment. In reality, you go on thinking they’re perfect and yet nothing ever happens. You know why? They’re just not into you. You’re fucking obsessed with them and that is not an attractive quality at all. Guys don’t even like hearing about it and girls don’t either. Why? One word: disgusting. And everyone lowers themselves to this stage because superficiality is superlative. It means perfection. You don’t think of perfection when you’re looking for a mate at how their test scores are or how they act. All of that comes later after.
I’ve been thinking a lot about high school. It’s over. How do I feel about that? I think it could’ve been better, but it could’ve been a lot worse, too. I was never that popular in high school for any one reason. I think it’s just the simple fact that no one saw me in the limelight. I don’t feel too at odds with that either. Personally, I hate when I receive attention from people that I don’t have a care in the world for. It would be too overbearing to have to be the wunderkind in high school. I was known for being an exceptional video gamer and being smart. That never got me women, anyhow. It’s good to have those qualities. Actually, it’s great to have those qualities. It’s not cool to go through that period of my life without any personal connection to the world aside from the Internet. I didn’t have any friends, really. It sucked major ass because I’d find myself spending more time at home than outside. I would just game away and leave my social life quietly in the corner waiting for its time-out to be over. Like I always had this idea that a girl would walk up to me and want to talk to me in order to get to know me. That never occurred. Even with males that never happened. It’s just been so annoying to be left alone, even if you try your hardest to put yourself out there. What is the result? I’m at home and barely leave the house. Basically all I do is bitch about the heat and type to a girl in her knickers and bra that lives in
I don’t have a car. I can’t get a car since I have no money. No jobs are available within walking distance, so a bike ride in 105+ temperatures over 2-3 hours to the next city is not an appealing idea.
I also found out that the crush I had got a boyfriend. Do I see it as a waste of time that I spent talking to her? Well, I’d say it’s about half yes and half no. What I got from it was that maybe socializing isn’t so hard at the beginning and I don’t know why I keep thinking its some impossible feat. The downside is that I never got anywhere close. She didn’t like me. I failed. How discouraging. I know the guy. I won’t question his intelligence because he’s mediocre and she is as well. So maybe they’re an okay match. They’ll just make an average kid with no prospects of getting into a good school. The guy has an obsession with cars, so I’m pretty sure he’d choose whatever new make/model comes out over her. I don’t think he’d see her as a good investment, only a temporary benefit…that’s talking tits and ass. He’s going to get laid. Whatever. It’s none of my concern about what happens to her anymore. It’s her life. I just wish somebody would include me in theirs that I like. Why is it so hard for someone I like to like me back? It’s a never-ending depression cycle. I pent-up all of this emotion, let it out as cordially as I can, and I feel like I get sucker punched by fucking Gary Coleman, laughing his ass off at how I failed miserably.
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