No daily recap. No commentary on Covert Affairs (that’s tomorrow Anthony). I’ll give you a song, but only because it’s become too much of a tradition for good old OCD me to skip. I feel like venting, and after all isn’t that what this piece of junk is for? Isn't that really what the Internet is for? Throwing your shit out in a high-tech wasteland where no one will ever care enough to find it?
Starting is always the hardest part, because you need to get something flowing. And as it’s been roughly eight hours since I really needed to rant I need to stir that up. And I think that sentence spurt did the trick. Now, everyone knows I’m probably the most insecure person they’ll ever meet, because I really can’t stand being disliked by too many people. I don’t know if that comes with the whole OCD package (my guess is that it does), but so far I’ve really been pretty good to everyone I’ve met… or at least if I haven’t no one has let me know about it. I care so much about how everyone else feels that I think I sometimes care a little too little about how I feel. I’m apparently such a nice guy (others words, not mine, believe me), that I stop caring about what I’m feeling in interest for everyone else. Now I know that doesn’t sound like me, the sarcastic, anything-goes, somewhat scathing when-I-want-to-be me, but think about it. Have I ever really hurt you? Really? Because if not, I’d like to let you know that I could if I wanted to, and I could think of a million different ways. ……… Now forget about that. Because I never would. I’m just that kind of person that would never intentionally hurt someone. And people tell me that’s a good thing, and really until now it felt like that was true. What’s pissing me off right now (think eight hours ago) is that the one time I unintentionally manage to hurt someone, another completely unhurt person who has no business with me whatsoever tries to tell me how to live my fucking life. I know I can’t take a joke, everyone knows that, but I’m pretty sure this isn’t a joke. Three months is a long time for a joke. And in those three months the person I really did unintentionally hurt has healed whatever needed to heal and we’re practically best friends again. I’d trust this person with my life okay. That’s how close we are. Yet the other one still seems to think that the world is exactly the same as reality TV where if two people break up, they can never do anything but scream at each other for the rest of their apparently-miserable lives. And I have a message for you: GET OVER YOURSELF! You’re not the guardian okay? And you have no business telling me what to fucking do after I’ve really done nothing but what a normal person does ten times in their teenage life. Get with the program kid. This ain’t the fucking real world yet, where there will REALLY be things that hurt.
SONG OF THE FUCKING DAY: SATELLITE
So anyone that doesn’t like what was just typed can go take a hike. Preferably off of a cliff. Over an alligator infested river. Filled with radioactive waste. I really don’t care.
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