Saturday morning,
and I'm up before 6.
Been up for what seemed like
4-5 hours...
but it's only 8.
Haven't seen the morning sun in a long time.
Not really, anyway.
Rushing to the office
and watching the sky brighten in between
reading e-mails and making calls
isn't exactly what I'd call 'appreciating nature'.
So this is the morning after the annual 'Dinner and Dance'.
Held at a club.
Was like being in a club.
I fucking hate clubs.
But last night was different.
It was breathtakingly depressing.
Hell, apart from suicide,
I kept thinking of stabbing myself.
In the face, especially.
I gotta be honest.
I am a little selfish.
A part of me WANTS to be accepted.
Yeah, I WANT them to like me.
I WANT to fit in,
be one of them.
I WANT to be invited to parties.
I want all that.
Even on the cusp of turning 30.
I want it.
And I tried.
I really fucking tried, too.
Problem with that is,
I don't drink.
I don't dance.
OK I CAN'T dance.
When people hear music,
hear a beat,
they get the urge to tap their feet at least.
Not me.
Nothing.
Nada.
Zip.
Maybe I'm damaged somehow.
And I'm ugly.
Not being self-deprecating.
I don't have a problem with it.
Others do, however.
Anybody who's wanting in the looks department,
and expects to be treated equally in a club,
can also expect to win a million bucks and
grow wings so he fly with pigs.
Shit will NEVER happen.
And yeah,
I'm talking about the women.
The guy were fine.
OK not really.
Most of them were fucking annoying.
Mainly because the women were there.
Now don't get me wrong,
some of the ladies were all right.
They were nice.
Friendly.
I'm not expecting to get laid.
Just smile and say Hi or something, you cunts.
After all, I gotta see your faces in the office on Monday.
But the majority.
Ah yes.
I was pretty much ignored for most of the night.
Fuck, even Natalie who decided to park her boney ass
opposite my seat,
didn't say a single word to me.
I hate this.
Collective rejection.
You feel like you're not good enough
to even have a conversation with.
And I tried.
That's the rub.
Why the fuck did I try.
You fucking moron.
You will NEVER be accepted.
Are you shitting me?
You're 30.
Give it up.
Yeah...
I need to make a choice.
Keep trying,
or just run at light speed in the other direction.
All I want.
All I fucking want,
is to finally be able to date someone that I'm really into.
Hasn't happened in more than a decade.
I don't want sex.
I don't want to drink.
It's like just doing anything without alcohol
would kill a girl of boredom.
ALL I want,
is someone I can call at the end of day,
and have dinner with.
Maybe watch a movie.
Relax.
Fucking lame, I know.
But that is what I want.
And I need to change that.
In fact, you know what?
Fuck it.
I'll re-instate one of the rules I set for myself in the past.
If you're above 25,
you're past your sell-by date.
Used up.
And fuck you if you find it offensive.
Fuck you.
And fuck off.
You had your fun,
and now what, you wanna slow down, huh?
Yeah,
I expect the only chicks I'll get,
are the ones who let themselves go...
and the ones men don't give a second look.
Fuck them (not literally, you goddamn pervert).
Ahh... that was a good rant.
I'm done trying to fit in.
The only friend I can rely on...
is my words.
Even if Blogger gets taken down.
My words will come back.
And I'll start all over.
And I'll be fine.
People are not worth it.
Fuck them.
And fuck you, too.
Well enough of that.
