Im now positive Im going to die utterly alone. And fat. And positively ugly; like a female Mick Jagger, maybe. No one would ever want that, even if they had a thing for someone who looks like a transvestite. Enough fantasizing about men who a) dont exist, b) will never know you exist, or c) are old enough to be your father/grandfather. Its time to face facts: all the good men are either taken or gay. Or entirely fictional. The rest of them are complete ****wits who dont even deserve your time. Which is why I shouldnt even bother to look for love; Im just going to end up miserable and heartbroken. I havent even liked a guy in almost three years (yes, Im keeping track); its just not worth it. I keep being asked why I dont like anyone, or if I do, and my response always is Oh, I dont really have time for any of that. School and stuff. but the truth is, Im a ****-all and Im not good enough for anyone, so why bother? No one in their right mind (or their wrong mind, for that matter) would want to put up with all the issues and positively insane and annoying quirks I have. Its also due to the fact that when it comes to guys I have such high standards that itd be impossible for any real person to live up to them. Im beginning to hate it.
Ive been awake since 8 oclock. I had a dream where I literally stayed up all night long; I think I even saw the sunrise (which has happened before, but not at my own will). Why am I awake? Because, despite my having finally fallen asleep at one oclock this morning while in a fit of punk-drunkenness, I just couldnt seem to fall back to sleep. You didnt need the entire backstory, did you? Anyway, my dream was actually a lot like what really happened last night. Lets recap. It started off innocently enough, what with my pathetic, lovesick ramblings about fictional men and dishy Brits. It then escalated to a few off-hand sexual comments relating to old men (old being between 40 and 70, in this case) that had to do with screen doors during hurricanes (Ill let you work that one out) and fathering my future children. Next, I hit the climax, the Ill forget all of this tomorrow stage. This included excessive keyboard mashing (used to convey indescribable emotion), a fit of giggles at anything and everything (I mean that literally)... and yes; I was completely sober the entire night.
I love the holidays (10 points for political correctness, self!), I really do. The music (except that ****ing annoying - and sad - Christmas Shoes song, and any country and western covers), the decorations (Christmas pine is one of the best smells ever produced on planet Earth, in my book), the massive amount of food consumed (theres no problem with liking to eat, okay?), and just the general feeling of happiness and peace on Earth that comes with the month of December (well, most of it). But along with all the good stuff, comes the absolute ****. The feeling of dread you get when you realize you have to face your family for an entire ten hours or so... The pressing and nonstop questions about your personal life: hows school? (You see me almost every week of the year; do you really feel the need to ask me this?); how come I never leave the house? (sadly, its because I have no real friends who would be caught dead with me in public). These are pretty annoying after being asked a million and one times, Ill admit that. But by far, the most irritating question of them all (especially at Christmas, when it seems that everyone is so concerned about relationship type things, probably because Christmas is the time to tell the truth and all that ****), is So... like any boys? And then I end up blushing like some kind of mental patient, because like Ive said before, I usually have to try and make something ridiculous up to hide the fact that I will be eternally married to my laptop and television because no one would ever have sex (or any other kind of romantic relation, because sex isnt everything) with a lonely, lazy, antisocial lump of a girl.
Practically everything in the universe makes me laugh. Even things that most people think are just completely unfunny and vulgar and stupid and utterly pointless. Like dogs crossing their eyes on cue. Or a poorly drawn picture of someone having sex with a young Paul McCartney. Or SpongeBob. People like me who are this strange shouldn't be allowed to interact with other human beings face to face. Oh wait, I don't.
I find myself becoming more and more like Liz Lemon every day. This fact was proven the other day when, ever so kindly, my mother pointed out that I have no social skills, and am too dependent on others. This is partly true, but I am going to try and amend it while being forced to live in this very room for another few years until I can grow up (which, quite frankly, may prove to be impossible, because there is proof that this hasnt happened to some people, and yet they are somewhat functional members of society). My reaction was typically emotional and off the handle (**** hindsight for making me come to these realizations after the fact), and consisted of me sobbing over the fact that every single one of my dreams is now crushed, and I will die an even more crippled, unmarried virgin, because no one will ever love the girl who will likely be living with her parents until shes in her 20s and doesnt know how to speak to people without it being over the internet and relates more closely to fictional characters than actual people and is hopelessly in love with men who could be her father or grandfather.
Ive developed a habit of becoming protective over people easily, most of whom I dont even know, but still defend like a fierce mama bear (even though I am the furthest thing from fierce). This is out of nothing more than love, to be quite honest; there are just some people who I think are so endlessly brilliant and amazing, that bring so much sunshine and happiness into my life that I will defend them to the death. That just made me sound really desperate and pathetic, didnt it? I am far too attached to some things/people for my own good. Not to sound like Im begging for anyones pity, but I think part of the reason I love books and films and TV and music so much is because it makes me feel like Im a part of something, like I matter enough to have someones story told to me. It makes me feel like Im not alone in feeling a certain way or thinking certain things. The only downside to my slight obsession with these things is that after a certain point I wish I could somehow emulate these people; be more confident, more open, more comfortable in my skin, less awkward.