Party pooper.
I don't know why I bother trying to remain friends or rekindle the relationships I have with people I haven't seen in forever.
I never liked them to begin with anyway. But it's not like I've got anybody else, so I may as well make the best of a bad situation.
It's not like I can just get up and go somewhere and meet new people. Nooo. I rely on the losers I already know to make friends for me. If I say, "Hey, find me a boyfriend!" to one of my chick friends who knows a lot of hot guys, I expect her to find me a suitable guy who isn't an immature jackass who's all into pot.
But little do I know that all their friends are just like them; a bunch of loser potheads whose only purpose in life is to get high and not give a shit about anything.
I tried to hang out with people yesterday and last night. But all they did was ignore me.
I should know better by now. It's just like how it was in school.
I tricked myself into thinking they were different now.
They are, but the're not the kind of different I expected.
They've changed. A lot. And I don't like it. I don't like them.
I don't like what they're into; I don't like the stupid decisions they've made. I don't like where they are in life.
But what right do I have to run their life? It's not like they'd listen to me anyway, so why do I even try.
I'm the smartest person I know. I'm considerate, and I know right from wrong.
And I don't know anybody else like me. They're a bunch of immature losers who are 17 and pregnant, or underage alcoholics, or engaged even though they're not even old enough (or smart enough) to be married yet.
The only people who are similar to me aren't even my age, and they're all the way on the other side of the fucking country. But let's not discuss them right now.
I don't really know what point I'm trying to make here. I guess I'm trying to say that my friends are a bunch of douchebags who don't deserve my friendship, and that teenagers are a bunch of dumbasses who need to get their shit together.
Sighhh. So last night was absolute shit. I thought it would be cool and all, you know, seeing as it was a birthday party type of thing, and there would be guys there and all. But no.
I'm sure it was fun. ...For them.
But for me? It was one of those times when I'd sit there and be pissed off, depressed, whatever, and start to think about how shitty my life actually is, and then put the blame all on myself.
Usually I'd blame it all on everybody else; but I'm starting to think that it can all be traced back to myself.
Who knows. It may be a combination of both.
But anyway, the guy I like (er uhh, used to like) was there. And the last time I saw him, like two months ago, got me really pissed off because I really liked him and all, but he left me and our friend at Sonic for like two hours while he and his dumbass boyfriends went to go get pot.
POT! For fuck's sake!
If you're like, on a blind date kind of thing with a girl you really like (and I know he did, or else wouldn't have went along with everyone in trying to make me kiss him), YOU DO NOT DITCH HER TO GO GET POT.
...And then go out in the middle of the desert to smoke it, while the girl you like stands there watching in disappointment.
Mmhm. That's going to land you a wife some day.
No, actually, I can't see that happening; all he wants out of life is to get high all the fucking time. That's definately gonna get you far.
Anyway, sooo throughout the night last night, I'd just sit there quietly as everybody else hung out and ignored me, or went and smoked pot, or went inside, leaving me out on the porch in the cold.
And when it came time for me to go home, they got all excited because they could finally go for a walk and get high.
It made me feel like shit; like I was there being babysat and all that garbage.
Oh, they couldn't wait for me to be gone, just so they could go get high, even though they fucking did it anyway out in the middle of the street while I sat on the curb.
When we were sitting at the table out back, there weren't enough chairs for everybody. It made me want to get up and offer my chair to somebody, so "there'd be enough chairs for everybody," even though my words would be dripping with irony and sarcasm due to the fact that at least two people would still remain sitting on the ground or standing around. Then they'd have some kind of comment to make, like "But there still aren't enough chairs for everybody, you've got nowhere to sit." But then I'd respond with some shit like "I'm not a part of this 'everybody,' and it's not like it'll matter if I leave or not."
It really makes me feel like shit. I try to hang out with people so I can be friends with them and all that shit, so I'll have somebody to go to in my time of need, but instead I'm sitting here all alone being pissed off with nobody to talk to but a fucking journal on the interwebs. I'm fucking pathetic.
And for the longest time, I've been telling everybody I fail at life. And only now am I starting to believe it.
They always try to argue with me, saying I don't fail and all that, but they're lying. They don't know how much I fail. At everything.
Fsdjgljksdrfgnjklxj. Then came cake time. While everybody was huddled around the counter singing and awaiting cake, I sat at the table staring out the window waiting for my mom to pick me up.
I was hoping that someone would ask, "Why haven't you wished happy birthday yet?" so I could reply with something like, "Gee, sorry if this sounds rude, but FUCK YOUR FUCKING HAPPY BIRTHDAY."
But you know how much of a nice, quiet person I am, and I'd never do anything like that.
Or would I? Who knows. Nobody ever gives me a chance.
Then they asked if I wanted cake. I declined, seeing as I wasn't that hungry, due to the fact that I was fucking pissed off as hell and near tears, but I pictured it in my mind how it would go had I accepted the offer:
I'd put on a calm face and turn to them, quietly say, "Yes, I would love some cake." As they all watch me rise from my seat and step up to the cake, I'd look down at it happily then slowly change my expression to a more malicious one. I would then reach for the cake with my bare hands, which I had been using to pet a number of dirty cats and dogs all day and hadn't had the time to wash, and take a gigantic piece out of the middle, shove it into my mouth, and throw the rest onto the floor or somebody's stupid face. And then I would storm out of the house and down the dark, cold street of an unfamilar neighborhood, fearing for my life and thinking of all the stalkers and rapists or whatever who lurk in the darkness, while wondering how many of the jackasses in the house would get the hint that this is revenge for you letting me experience such a shitty night.
Before I finally did leave, two other girls and I hung out outside while waiting for everybody else to get back from walking to the fucking gas station. I felt so out of place. While the two of them talked about their fucking boy problems and what's so fucking awful about their life, I sat there staring at the ground while dwelling on the shittiness of my own life. I was asked if anything was wrong, and I said yes, but I didn't get a chance to spill my guts and cry like I wanted to, because one: I'm a nice person and I don't want to spoil the fucking party; and two: nobody would care or try to help me out anyway. So why even bother?
She said to me, "Sorry you didn't have fun, but at least you got to get out of the house."
Uhmmm, if I recall correctly, you said that on the last shitty outing I went to. Sorry, but I can't always think so optimistically.
You see, if I want to be ignored, I can stay at home. But at least I'd have fun while being ignored.
When I go out with people, I expect to have fun and have some kind of good memory of that day, night, whatever. Not some memory which I'll later repress.
That's not what friends do. Friends have fun. They don't ignore each other.
The first thing I did when I got in the car to go home, I texted one of them, seeing as I didn't have the chance (and partially because I was too scared) to tell her how much fun I wasn't having.
I said something like, "I had tons of fun tonight. I'm gonna go die now."
She replied with, "Sorry my party wasn't fun."
I said, "No I'm sure it was tons of fun...if you're not being ignored like I was."
She told me she didn't realize I was being ignored.
What I replied with is irrelevant, as she didn't respond to it; but basically I told her how difficult it is to not realize that somebody is being ignored. You know, cuz that always happens at parties. People sit away from everybody else and basically just want to die.
Yeah. I love feeling like that.
In conclusion, happy fucking birthday, jackass. Lucky for you, I won't be here for your next birthday. If things go according to plan, by this time next year I'll be in California or Massachusetts with my real friends.