I have reached the point where I can no longer keep track of the number of times my writing has gotten me in trouble.
I've been placed on suicide watch, I've been told to have a psychiatric evaluation, I've released a couple of family secrets that led to moments of shunning... the list goes on.
I KNOW my writing gets me in trouble.
I KNOW my writing gets analyzed-- more often than not, it is done so INCORRECTLY... like most people's writing does.
As far as getting analyzed (criticized) by others goes, I'm usually fine with it... but I must say, I prefer it done in my presence... that way I can take the conversation as more of a constructive effort than a gossip session. I can also take people out of their mistake if they just so happen to read into my shit just... totally incorrectly.
Also, if you base your judgment of me SOLELY on what you read here, you're committing a terrible mistake. Often, what I write on here is what I write under great stress... or rage... or... any strong emotion which I bottle up and only release here.
And again... you can't fucking base your analysis on what you read... because often, you're a dumbshit who has shitty reading comprehension/analytical reading skills IN THE FIRST PLACE... and so, the writing devices I often employ will be lost upon you (oh yeah, many things of which I write are excerpts of a larger picture... of literary work... not... you know... for your goddamned WEAK analysis of me).
So, let me hit a topic which works me the fuck up, and seems to always be in the mouths of others... especially recently, because of these last two weeks of Darcy:
The romance department.
Analysis:
"Your standards are too high."
Why does it work me up? Because it's WRONG.
A.) Yes, Darcy is the dude of dudes. He is the guy that no guy has matched. He is smart, witty, funny, ridiculously handsome and all that shit that I like... that I like A LOT... like... the most I've liked in anyone. His existence makes me feel pretty things. And he accomplished this status without even trying, without even touching me, and hardly having ever crossed a couple of words with me. It's just shit he inspired without even trying... my brain chemistry went apeshit when I met him, and so... I love the guy. And I understand that this is not reciprocated AND I did not cry about it... just went on that Kanye-styled stream of consciousness from the other night. He will always be the guy my heart beats for. He's the dude who will never be with me. And I've come to terms with it. End of story.
B.) My so called "standards" are these:
1. MUST. BE. SMART.
2. Must make me laugh.
3. I MUST be physically attracted to him.
All three in one, no exceptions.
C.) My "standards" exist because of this:
1. I may downplay my intelligence... mainly by remaining quiet under most circumstances, but I am ONE MOTHERFUCKING BRIGHT COOKIE. However, I allow everyone else to do the talking, because I enjoy listening (as long as it's not incoherent RAMBLING)... I learn a lot from others, and I just fucking love learning. Somehow, this gets twisted into me not participating because I'm a dumbass.
Permit me to be a fucking snobby cunt right now: I am NOT dumb. I aced my way through the most elite classes offered by the schools I attended, and not ONCE was I in a remedial class, not even considering the fact that I started my education in Spanish-only classes.
I read WAY TOO FUCKING much and I did WAY TOO MUCH fucking math and science-- mostly against my very free-spirited, naturally bohemian will.
My AP, SAT, ACT, MCAT, AND GRE scores back me up on this. Just because I don't brag about it, does NOT mean I'm an idiot... I just don't like bragging... because this shit is personal to me... it's something I prefer to keep to myself.
So, I'm a smart girl... and I MUST have a smart dude. He doesn't have to be a genius, but his wit must be something I enjoy. How the fuck are we expected to communicate if he doesn't understand what the fuck I'm talking about? My mind must be stimulated first if anything is expected to happen.
Also, if you tell me you don't like math, you cease to exist to me.
2. I am a GOOD GIRL. I am loyal (I'm a virgin for crying out loud! What more proof do you need to convince you I am not easily swayed?). When I love, I am selfless-- I give my all. I am faithful. I dedicate my being to my love and making him the happiest human in the universe. I won't lie to you. I won't nag you. I don't look at any other guy but MY guy. I don't drink to excess (exceptions ARE made. I KNOW how to party, but only when I feel SAFE to make a fool of myself. Instances are RARE, but DO exist) or smoke or do drugs-- I've never done drugs, even if I was/am surrounded by them. I go to the gym and work on maintaining a healthy body-- my body is my temple... temple I give entirely to the one I love. I am a motherfucking GOOD GIRL.
3. I am rich (snobby enough for you?). I may dress like a beggar, but that's because I fucking like it. I don't need to find a dude to financially support me... I'm good. If I get a dude, it's purely because I LOVE him, not because I love or need his fucking money. That shit has been LONG taken care of.
4.. The physical thing... that is of the upmost importance to me. If your presence irks me, you're as good as invisible to me. As a person who was... as a person whose trust and love was betrayed-- in the most vile way-- at the age of seven, by one of the adults she most trusted in the universe, I HATE unapproved touching. If I DON'T like you near me, I FUCKING DON'T LIKE IT. To try to attempt to "convince" me otherwise will only inspire HATE from me... sometimes violence. You CAN'T and you WON'T "teach" me to "like" or "accept" your presence. If I like you, I like you, if I don't, then I don't. Some dudes I allow to grab my ass, others I don't even enjoy accidentally brushing my shoulder. I don't NEED to "accept" ANYONE.
I don't fear solitude... shit, I don't really fucking enjoy company. I find it unnecessary to constantly have some guy I don't give two shits about HOUNDING me for attention. I don't have the vocation of a maid... or a babysitter. I hardly care about taking care of myself... I don't care to add a second person I'm not in love with.
To say my "standards are too high" implies I'm either TOO LOW to ask for this or just undeserving. Am I really undeserving of this? HELL NO.
I have ZERO need for a guy in my life. It's not a pressing issue.
I was abused as a kid, therefore I have zero desire or TOLERANCE to put up with someone who does not make me FEEL.
To make me feel, you must be smart (truly possess intelligence, none of this mimicry of your smart friends. Eventually the truth comes out, and when it does, I WILL resent the fuck out of you), make me giggle, and I must feel absolutely captivated by you. That. Is. It.
Since someone HAS managed to captivate me, I know the possibility exists... so WHY THE FUCK AM I GOING TO SETTLE for someone who does not inspire the slightest bit of... similar chemical magic?
If I don't find it, I am FINE staying alone... because it only means I won't have to put up with some dumb motherfucker who irks me... demands I feed him and fuck him until I just commit suicide by jumping off some fucking cliff. Some fucking prick who feels entitled to my eternal gratitude for plucking me out of my solitude to cook and clean for him.
Awwwww, how fucking romantic! How fucking benevolent of you, sir, and how motherfucking inconsiderate and delusional of me!
To say I have too high a standard is FUCKED UP. And a lie.
I'm not asking for too much, I'm asking for what is fair.
I fucking DESERVE to have a guy I feel a magnetic attraction for. I've been a good girl, I am a great girl... and I've had some really fucking shitty stuff happen in my life... I should finally get to be with a guy I choose... IF such a man exists and wants to be with me. I should NOT ever again have to sit there and allow someone who WANTED me to TAKE ME against my will. NEVER. AGAIN. No MEANS NO.
"You'll learn to like it." "You'll learn to like me."
Uh, no, NO I won't. I don't HAVE to learn anything!
I've been placed on suicide watch, I've been told to have a psychiatric evaluation, I've released a couple of family secrets that led to moments of shunning... the list goes on.
I KNOW my writing gets me in trouble.
I KNOW my writing gets analyzed-- more often than not, it is done so INCORRECTLY... like most people's writing does.
As far as getting analyzed (criticized) by others goes, I'm usually fine with it... but I must say, I prefer it done in my presence... that way I can take the conversation as more of a constructive effort than a gossip session. I can also take people out of their mistake if they just so happen to read into my shit just... totally incorrectly.
Also, if you base your judgment of me SOLELY on what you read here, you're committing a terrible mistake. Often, what I write on here is what I write under great stress... or rage... or... any strong emotion which I bottle up and only release here.
And again... you can't fucking base your analysis on what you read... because often, you're a dumbshit who has shitty reading comprehension/analytical reading skills IN THE FIRST PLACE... and so, the writing devices I often employ will be lost upon you (oh yeah, many things of which I write are excerpts of a larger picture... of literary work... not... you know... for your goddamned WEAK analysis of me).
So, let me hit a topic which works me the fuck up, and seems to always be in the mouths of others... especially recently, because of these last two weeks of Darcy:
The romance department.
Analysis:
"Your standards are too high."
Why does it work me up? Because it's WRONG.
A.) Yes, Darcy is the dude of dudes. He is the guy that no guy has matched. He is smart, witty, funny, ridiculously handsome and all that shit that I like... that I like A LOT... like... the most I've liked in anyone. His existence makes me feel pretty things. And he accomplished this status without even trying, without even touching me, and hardly having ever crossed a couple of words with me. It's just shit he inspired without even trying... my brain chemistry went apeshit when I met him, and so... I love the guy. And I understand that this is not reciprocated AND I did not cry about it... just went on that Kanye-styled stream of consciousness from the other night. He will always be the guy my heart beats for. He's the dude who will never be with me. And I've come to terms with it. End of story.
B.) My so called "standards" are these:
1. MUST. BE. SMART.
2. Must make me laugh.
3. I MUST be physically attracted to him.
All three in one, no exceptions.
C.) My "standards" exist because of this:
1. I may downplay my intelligence... mainly by remaining quiet under most circumstances, but I am ONE MOTHERFUCKING BRIGHT COOKIE. However, I allow everyone else to do the talking, because I enjoy listening (as long as it's not incoherent RAMBLING)... I learn a lot from others, and I just fucking love learning. Somehow, this gets twisted into me not participating because I'm a dumbass.
Permit me to be a fucking snobby cunt right now: I am NOT dumb. I aced my way through the most elite classes offered by the schools I attended, and not ONCE was I in a remedial class, not even considering the fact that I started my education in Spanish-only classes.
I read WAY TOO FUCKING much and I did WAY TOO MUCH fucking math and science-- mostly against my very free-spirited, naturally bohemian will.
My AP, SAT, ACT, MCAT, AND GRE scores back me up on this. Just because I don't brag about it, does NOT mean I'm an idiot... I just don't like bragging... because this shit is personal to me... it's something I prefer to keep to myself.
So, I'm a smart girl... and I MUST have a smart dude. He doesn't have to be a genius, but his wit must be something I enjoy. How the fuck are we expected to communicate if he doesn't understand what the fuck I'm talking about? My mind must be stimulated first if anything is expected to happen.
Also, if you tell me you don't like math, you cease to exist to me.
2. I am a GOOD GIRL. I am loyal (I'm a virgin for crying out loud! What more proof do you need to convince you I am not easily swayed?). When I love, I am selfless-- I give my all. I am faithful. I dedicate my being to my love and making him the happiest human in the universe. I won't lie to you. I won't nag you. I don't look at any other guy but MY guy. I don't drink to excess (exceptions ARE made. I KNOW how to party, but only when I feel SAFE to make a fool of myself. Instances are RARE, but DO exist) or smoke or do drugs-- I've never done drugs, even if I was/am surrounded by them. I go to the gym and work on maintaining a healthy body-- my body is my temple... temple I give entirely to the one I love. I am a motherfucking GOOD GIRL.
3. I am rich (snobby enough for you?). I may dress like a beggar, but that's because I fucking like it. I don't need to find a dude to financially support me... I'm good. If I get a dude, it's purely because I LOVE him, not because I love or need his fucking money. That shit has been LONG taken care of.
4.. The physical thing... that is of the upmost importance to me. If your presence irks me, you're as good as invisible to me. As a person who was... as a person whose trust and love was betrayed-- in the most vile way-- at the age of seven, by one of the adults she most trusted in the universe, I HATE unapproved touching. If I DON'T like you near me, I FUCKING DON'T LIKE IT. To try to attempt to "convince" me otherwise will only inspire HATE from me... sometimes violence. You CAN'T and you WON'T "teach" me to "like" or "accept" your presence. If I like you, I like you, if I don't, then I don't. Some dudes I allow to grab my ass, others I don't even enjoy accidentally brushing my shoulder. I don't NEED to "accept" ANYONE.
I don't fear solitude... shit, I don't really fucking enjoy company. I find it unnecessary to constantly have some guy I don't give two shits about HOUNDING me for attention. I don't have the vocation of a maid... or a babysitter. I hardly care about taking care of myself... I don't care to add a second person I'm not in love with.
To say my "standards are too high" implies I'm either TOO LOW to ask for this or just undeserving. Am I really undeserving of this? HELL NO.
I have ZERO need for a guy in my life. It's not a pressing issue.
I was abused as a kid, therefore I have zero desire or TOLERANCE to put up with someone who does not make me FEEL.
To make me feel, you must be smart (truly possess intelligence, none of this mimicry of your smart friends. Eventually the truth comes out, and when it does, I WILL resent the fuck out of you), make me giggle, and I must feel absolutely captivated by you. That. Is. It.
Since someone HAS managed to captivate me, I know the possibility exists... so WHY THE FUCK AM I GOING TO SETTLE for someone who does not inspire the slightest bit of... similar chemical magic?
If I don't find it, I am FINE staying alone... because it only means I won't have to put up with some dumb motherfucker who irks me... demands I feed him and fuck him until I just commit suicide by jumping off some fucking cliff. Some fucking prick who feels entitled to my eternal gratitude for plucking me out of my solitude to cook and clean for him.
Awwwww, how fucking romantic! How fucking benevolent of you, sir, and how motherfucking inconsiderate and delusional of me!
To say I have too high a standard is FUCKED UP. And a lie.
I'm not asking for too much, I'm asking for what is fair.
I fucking DESERVE to have a guy I feel a magnetic attraction for. I've been a good girl, I am a great girl... and I've had some really fucking shitty stuff happen in my life... I should finally get to be with a guy I choose... IF such a man exists and wants to be with me. I should NOT ever again have to sit there and allow someone who WANTED me to TAKE ME against my will. NEVER. AGAIN. No MEANS NO.
"You'll learn to like it." "You'll learn to like me."
Uh, no, NO I won't. I don't HAVE to learn anything!
2 comments:
tldr;
SHE WILL NEVER LIKE YOU, GET OVER IT!
I agree with anonymous- and it's not just that.. when you objectify and act injurious toward someone, you become the most unattractive monster in the universe. Your plan backfired so hard you look like Kurt Cobain.
..too soon?
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