Songs stuck in my head in the last three days: Who can it be now? By Men at work, I want you to want me by cheap trick, death to the martyrs by The ark.
Girls currently miffed at me: judy, Makeda, most of my ex's (so add another 18 or thereabouts)
I've enjoyed The Boomtown Rats lately, which is odd; the style of music tends to be... old. Reminds of twenties music.
That's it. Just don't want this blog to die altogether, ne?
Monday, March 23
Saturday, March 14
The King in Yellow
I suppose a bit of honesty is in order, and, as this is such a rarity from me, I decided to place in in a place very few people see.
Many, many people know I do not like myself. Not eeven a wee bit. Occasionally I'll feign arrogance or self-confidence, but these are little guises to ease the passing of conversation.
To me, in my mind, I am the worst creature ever created on this earth. There are no good things about me, no positive aspects.
I can acknowledge this is foolish and nonsensical. Logically I am not worse than everyone; take Hitler, for example; Osama Bin Laden, Killer Khan, Caligula... but logic isn't part of this.
There is no reason for me despising myself to such an extent; it started back in middle school, which is even more ridiculous than you might believe. I was raised in an average, middle-class white family. Lived in the suburbs, even. My sister was a little strange (growing ever stranger through the years),and I suppose I received the same genes that foment rebellion in the mind.
I've learned to live with this 'disparity', this fraction of the self against the self... and it's not so bad, really. Insults seem to bounce off me, as they are just reaffirming what I already know. Praise never goes to my head, as the greater part of me always puts it down as false.
More on the self-depreciation: Everything that goes wrong in a relationship is my fault. I let a good thing go to waste. There is always more I could have done to keep it going. If the girl cheated on me, it was because I did not do enough to keep her true. If the girl left me for another, I was not a great enough person to keep her around.
The only real sin I can put to my name is the time I cheated on my then girlfriend; I'll never forget it. She forgave me, as did her friends, and most everyone hurt or involved in the incident... except for me.
I grow weary of this; perhaps I'll renumerate my faults another time.
Many, many people know I do not like myself. Not eeven a wee bit. Occasionally I'll feign arrogance or self-confidence, but these are little guises to ease the passing of conversation.
To me, in my mind, I am the worst creature ever created on this earth. There are no good things about me, no positive aspects.
I can acknowledge this is foolish and nonsensical. Logically I am not worse than everyone; take Hitler, for example; Osama Bin Laden, Killer Khan, Caligula... but logic isn't part of this.
There is no reason for me despising myself to such an extent; it started back in middle school, which is even more ridiculous than you might believe. I was raised in an average, middle-class white family. Lived in the suburbs, even. My sister was a little strange (growing ever stranger through the years),and I suppose I received the same genes that foment rebellion in the mind.
I've learned to live with this 'disparity', this fraction of the self against the self... and it's not so bad, really. Insults seem to bounce off me, as they are just reaffirming what I already know. Praise never goes to my head, as the greater part of me always puts it down as false.
More on the self-depreciation: Everything that goes wrong in a relationship is my fault. I let a good thing go to waste. There is always more I could have done to keep it going. If the girl cheated on me, it was because I did not do enough to keep her true. If the girl left me for another, I was not a great enough person to keep her around.
The only real sin I can put to my name is the time I cheated on my then girlfriend; I'll never forget it. She forgave me, as did her friends, and most everyone hurt or involved in the incident... except for me.
I grow weary of this; perhaps I'll renumerate my faults another time.
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