(no subject)
i just deleted an entry that rambled on forever about my slight hatred for someone who really, i only dislike part of the time. cruel, but not entirely unnecessary.
i've just finished watching Mean Girls on TBS. Which, naturally got me thinking. Funny movie, yes. But it saddened me to think that people treat each other like that.
I wonder why it is that I am depressed, and why I hate my life so much. I attribute it not so much to the whole chemical imbalance thing I have going on, although a good part of it is the fact that I am generally an unstable person. But so much of it I think has to do with the images thrown at me, and us for that matter, every single day of life. What we're told right from the start is that life is always better with something more than what you have. Today, I was told that life is better when:
-you are popular
-you have a boyfriend
-you are pretty/hot
-you are trendy
-you are rich
-you go to parties every friday
-you drive a lexus
Why? What is it about these things that makes life better? I have never understood it, and that is not for lack of trying.
Popularity does not necessarily garner respect.
A boyfriend does not necessarily guarantee happiness, although I'm sure it's nice to be cared about. I wouldn't know.
I guess it's just like me to complain, because it is seemingly all I do and the reason a certain guy won't even converse with me anymore. But its hard when you cannot even take a compliment anymore, and don't even know what its like NOT to call yourself stupid, or NOT to feel like smashing mirrors.
I feel like an ass, because I actually sit here at night and promise myself that I will make more of an effort to be pretty. And that is hypocritical, because I'm doing exactly what I am expected to do as an unquestioning servant of society. I will never be pretty, and there is not a single thing I can do, but still I try. I feel like people would care about me if I was pretty. Like I would matter. Like they wouldn't forget my name as soon as I left a room. But even then, I'd still be that weird retro girl who makes stupid announcements and sits in Children's Lit saying that the Chronicles of Narnia are "a supposal" and that we should just let it go. My looks would not change who I am inside, and so it's stupid for me to aspire to anything better. It is not the fact that I am ugly that has driven people to fear me. It is me myself. My quick temper, my ability to hold a grudge, my indecisiveness, my loudness, my rudeness, my obnoxiousness, my weirdness, my lack of confidence, my nagativity, my mood swings.
All of these things are what is keeping me alone and bitter. We complain about that one bitter teacher who was left at the alter and now runs marathons and lives for her swim practices to compensate. I am no better than she is. I have been scorned, and now I've taken my hurt and my anger out on the world. However I've been punished, I've deserved it. I have treated my friends like crap, and when I die alone, everyone will know why. And the vicious circle continues its 360 turn. Its after midnight and here I am bitching into some cyberspace world where no one even reads what I write anymore because it's monotonous, stupid and dull.