Michael Jackson and a Plastic Bag
It's been a while since I've actually written any kind of heart-felt entry about my feelings. Frankly, I know not many of you even read this, and I can understand why. It's merely a mundane description of my little life, and I never do or say anything particularly interesting. I really don't care about being interesting. At this point, I think it's pretty much an impossibility. I've lost all faith in the human race and in any sort of communication/relationships/friendships. Human beings are generally rotten, and it's really sad that I want to be a total hermit at 21.
I've felt like a pariah my whole life. I grew up with people constantly picking on me, treating me as if I wasn't as good as the scum and shit on the bottom of their shoes. If you're the slightest bit different, no one wants you around. You're automatically labeled as that weird kid. I feel like I get weirder by the day. It's getting to the point where I can even hold a conversation with anyone. My words become jumbled. Any type of social contact, aside from the feeble attempts at conversation made over the internet, makes me sick to my stomach. I'm not afraid of saying the wrong thing; I don't know what it is.
Work, in particular, really fucks with me. It requires me to be what I consider excessively social, even pretentious, with people. I have to be nice and vocal with everyone who ventures in the store for a movie. Yesterday, some guy called in and demanded we take certain titles off the shelf and hold them. It happens fairly often. He came down to the store without his membership card, and his driver's license was from North Carolina. Obviously, he's not going to be in our computer. So we called another store to do an account lookup. Apparently, it took too long for this guy. As I was ringing him up, he kept mocking me, making fun of how I would phrase things, trying his best to poke fun at my accent, using a debilitating tone. I just looked at him in shock. I couldn't believe someone could be so rude, knowing I was a trainee. Despite my initial urges to tell him to get the fuck out or to come across the counter to give him a tasty knuckle sandwich, I refrained. I said nothing other than telling him to have a nice day as he left the store. It ruined the rest of my shift.
If random people can be so cruel, why should I even want to be social? It takes so much effort for me to do so, and it hardly seems worth it. A substantial portion of my "friends" only call when they want something. I'm to the point where I don't even take the phone with me when I leave the house and usually don't even bother answering it when I'm home. I'm not trying to be an asshole, but don't call if you just want me to do something for you, especially if we never hang out or talk for any other reason.
You can read this and laugh if you want. You can say, "Look at this stupid bastard feeling sorry for himself. What a douche!" I really don't care.
I just want to be able to be myself. I want real friends. I don't want to be used, and I don't want to have to make any drastic changes to accommodate someone.
I've felt like a pariah my whole life. I grew up with people constantly picking on me, treating me as if I wasn't as good as the scum and shit on the bottom of their shoes. If you're the slightest bit different, no one wants you around. You're automatically labeled as that weird kid. I feel like I get weirder by the day. It's getting to the point where I can even hold a conversation with anyone. My words become jumbled. Any type of social contact, aside from the feeble attempts at conversation made over the internet, makes me sick to my stomach. I'm not afraid of saying the wrong thing; I don't know what it is.
Work, in particular, really fucks with me. It requires me to be what I consider excessively social, even pretentious, with people. I have to be nice and vocal with everyone who ventures in the store for a movie. Yesterday, some guy called in and demanded we take certain titles off the shelf and hold them. It happens fairly often. He came down to the store without his membership card, and his driver's license was from North Carolina. Obviously, he's not going to be in our computer. So we called another store to do an account lookup. Apparently, it took too long for this guy. As I was ringing him up, he kept mocking me, making fun of how I would phrase things, trying his best to poke fun at my accent, using a debilitating tone. I just looked at him in shock. I couldn't believe someone could be so rude, knowing I was a trainee. Despite my initial urges to tell him to get the fuck out or to come across the counter to give him a tasty knuckle sandwich, I refrained. I said nothing other than telling him to have a nice day as he left the store. It ruined the rest of my shift.
If random people can be so cruel, why should I even want to be social? It takes so much effort for me to do so, and it hardly seems worth it. A substantial portion of my "friends" only call when they want something. I'm to the point where I don't even take the phone with me when I leave the house and usually don't even bother answering it when I'm home. I'm not trying to be an asshole, but don't call if you just want me to do something for you, especially if we never hang out or talk for any other reason.
You can read this and laugh if you want. You can say, "Look at this stupid bastard feeling sorry for himself. What a douche!" I really don't care.
I just want to be able to be myself. I want real friends. I don't want to be used, and I don't want to have to make any drastic changes to accommodate someone.