Don't Leave Comments On This Entry. Pity? No Thanks...

So instead of complaining like everyone else my age about why I haven't met "the one person", I'm just going to come right out and do the exact thing that I shouldn't. I'm going to talk about my personal life.

Honestly it isn't like it matters. I could count on one damn hand the number of people who even read this stupid blog. My poetry isn't even good. People tell me it's good because they want to be nice. And they want to be nice because they know I'm pathetic and only have my writing to show that I'm worth a damn. I'm not great at sports. I'm not a good musician. I'm not exceptional at any one subject in school. I'm just average like everyone else. Perhaps that's the root of this dilemma.

Everyone goes through a process where they make the world a whole lot smaller. This is often done by falling in love, finding a passion/hobby, getting a job/career, etc. (or any combination of those and other ones too). Seeing as how I really don't have any one of those except writing (which all I do is write on this damn obscure blog) I'd say that I think the world is a pretty damn big place. And that vastness is overwhelming me. That's my problem. Now go ahead and tell me to deal with it. That's all anyone else will say if I try and tell them how I'm feeling. The world is full of people who love to put you down.

I lead people on through my writing that I am intellectual, deep, empathetic, sentimental, and "wise". Let me tell you all something. I'm just a socially-under-developed, lonely, and at times pathetic, individual. Now I know calling myself pathetic isn't very attractive. Then again I'm not trying to be attractive with this entry. To tell you the truth, I don't know what I'm trying to be anymore. It wouldn't be too farfetched to say that I hate my life right now. Alot of people probably feel that way sometimes. I just have no one to ****ing call and talk about it that can relate.

At this point you are either pitying me or pissed off at me. Most of you are probably pissed off at me. Pissed off that I'm complaining and have to this point wasted precious minutes of your lives. If I could I'd shave those minutes off of my life and give them back to you, since you would probably make better use of them anyway. But alas, I cannot do that, so I guess I'll just apologize. Alot of people read this blog and think it's a fun little hobby I like to do. Maybe it's something I do in my spare time, or something to pass the time while waiting for a class. Let me tell you people something.

If you're in love, then this blog to me is like your lover to you. The only difference is a blog doesn't say "I love you", and you can't really communicate with it. Of course I don't "love" my blog like I love a person. The implication I'm trying to make is that the same emotions you pour from your heart when you love a person or thing is the emotions I put in to my blog. So there you have it. Of the miniscule population that even reads a damn thing I write, you know it now. You aren't reading random thoughts or intellectual bursts of my brain. You're reading the inner struggles and triumphs of a conscience that is fighting for survival in the present world in which it exists.

Enjoy.

Or hate it.

I don't really care.