Because fuck you. It’s all about me. Actually not really. I often think to myself that karma is paying me back BIG TIME for the things I’ve done that have been less than ‘write-home about’ worthy. Or I could simply be so self absorbed and concerned about nobody except myself that it’s really a cry for attention.
IT’S WHO YOU GO TO BED WITH THAT MATTERS
For those that know me, I don’t see eye to eye with certain members of my family. One of the few things I do agree with is that statement.It may not even literally be who you’re in bed with… or who you’re fucking at the moment. It’s the ones you think about as you turn in for the night. And it’s also for the ones that keep the feeling mutual.
We often fall in a trap of being too concerned with what other people think. Sometimes we bring it on ourselves, and sometimes other people volunteer their criticism and give you a complex that you un-admittedly can’t escape. I have a few. But it’s really not that big of a deal. I usually make a joke out of my shortcomings (pun intended) just in case someone else doesn’t know what to say in an awkward moment of self-realization.
There’s no point in worrying about the opinions of those who have no concern about where you are laying your head at night. Even if the only person is yourself, then you should only be concerned with yourself. There is also no need to be concerned if someone is there with you or not. We are all on our own path so don’t force something that you have no right to. If someone else comes along and says ‘let’s ride’, and you want them to ride then by all means, take them by the hand and live your god damned life. Make it fuckin’ awesome.
This has been a huge problem for me. It may sound like I’m full of myself. Maybe I am. Fuck off. But for reals….
I can’t stay still in my life. In fact lately I’ve been stagnant for too long. I do however, always look for what’s next. Of all the things I’ve done, I’ve learned about people more than I sometimes care to. People can be disgusting. People can be beautiful. Everything in between as well. Nothing surprises me anymore.
Not being surprised doesn’t mean I don’t find myself amazed at what can come from someone. Garbage or Awesomeness alike. Thing is, I get bored of it… Quick. Maybe because I see too many people do what I’ve done with my life. Something gets started and there’s no follow through. It’s quite frustrating.
DO I HAVE TO???
Dating sucks. Talking to people sucks. Making small-talk sucks. Why is it so damn important? Sometimes I just want to be. Simply BE. Maybe I don’t feel like talking. Maybe I do. Maybe I want to talk shit because stirring the pot is a lot more fun than simply watching the flies collect on the surface.
I feel so out of place if I find myself forcing conversations or actions just to please other people. ‘Oh cool dog, what’s it’s name?’ – ‘Tell me more about your ex’ – ‘Can you please just stab me in the eye?’ I remember a topic of discussion in college Literature class. We were reading short stories by David Sedaris. The professor mentioned about how he loves a good story that doesn’t waste your time with things that don’t need to be said.That comment has actually made me wonder why the hell I even do these blogs.
I have no clue why I do this shit anymore. They say it’s good to write… Keep a journal…. whatever. This is dumb.