I want to put this out there. So that people will finally get this out so there are no questions. I really hope that people are going to take this tibit of information and store it for future reference.
"Everything I do is NOT up for discussion. I do not have to explain myself. I did it. Deal with it. Just because I tell you about it doesn't mean that we have to discuss it. It doesn't mean that we have to go over how prudent it was or was not for me to have gone down that route. I am an adult and, believe it or not, I know what I am doing. I did it. It's done."
So, in the future, if I change the subject or end the phone conversation it's because of the previous tibit. I do not want to talk about it. No lectures, no discussions, nothing. It's done and over. Leave it alone.
Sunday, July 12, 2009
Monday, July 6, 2009
put it all in perspective for you
I wonder if I will be wanting to say this if the situation rises...
exfriend: I slept with your boyfriend.
Friend 1: How could you?!?
exfriend: I'm glad I did it.
You: I'm sure you are. Sleeping with him has always been a dream of yours, right? Tell me, did he bother to take off all of his clothes while he was doing you? You were the temporary solution to hurt feelings. So, you know what that makes you, uh besides easy? That's makes you a thought that can be forgotten as soon as it came up. We allow one mistake each in our relationship. You were his. I hope he enjoyed you. It doesn't make him any less mine, or you any more his. You hold on to that kiss on the cheek that I'm sure he gave you, 'cause that's all you have left.
This is all oozing with dramatic looks and feeling being hurt. Then followed with a great dramatic exit. Riiight.
exfriend: I slept with your boyfriend.
Friend 1: How could you?!?
exfriend: I'm glad I did it.
You: I'm sure you are. Sleeping with him has always been a dream of yours, right? Tell me, did he bother to take off all of his clothes while he was doing you? You were the temporary solution to hurt feelings. So, you know what that makes you, uh besides easy? That's makes you a thought that can be forgotten as soon as it came up. We allow one mistake each in our relationship. You were his. I hope he enjoyed you. It doesn't make him any less mine, or you any more his. You hold on to that kiss on the cheek that I'm sure he gave you, 'cause that's all you have left.
This is all oozing with dramatic looks and feeling being hurt. Then followed with a great dramatic exit. Riiight.
Suicide...emotional, at least.
Love...irritating. From watching it to participating in it. All of it, from the love of hobbies and animals to the love of family. From the love of friends to the passionate love of a significant lover. Irritating. That is the way that I feel about it and therefore I am a glutton for punishment, for I continue to base my pleasures in life on the works of love.
When I was in middle school I made my first assertion on why I was afraid of falling in love. From the depths of my twelve or thirteen year old mind I pulled some of my first philosophical workings...or so I like to think.
"Falling in love is like jumping off of a cliff into the ocean. I'm afraid that I am going to make that jump and while I'm falling I'll find that there is no water to catch me. Instead all that is there is the ground." -younger me.
That was how I felt of love. How I still feel, only with more things accompanying. Love is amazingly self-serving and stupid. What a ridiculous concept to destroy yourself as you are (no matter how content) to add another set of opinions and objections. All of this while knowing that there is really no way to please the both of you (with compromise comes the inability to reach one's true happiness, so to live a life based on compromise is depressing). Yet, as a human we want someone to be there and support us. To have someone in our corner to understand and show us that we are not alone. We are willing to reach for this fairy tale companion ship and to receive every forthcoming nightmare that rides on the prospect of idea of being in this "next" stage of life.
The next "stage," a new "level." The insanity of it is absolutely preposterous. Nothing is able to stay the same. From mannerisms to ideas of life. The paths that one had once decided to walk upon are all of sudden unimportant. The rules of the society forces upon us the notion that one must forget themselves and take to this other. But what happens if the only one forgetting is you? What happens if your attempts to do as much are disregarded? If you chose because society said you should...and now your choice is proving to be the biggest trial and error of your life? What then? Pick up and go again? Find the self you abandoned to be who you are now? Or just find that there are no rebates, that you are stuck with where you are and what you've got?
We do all this for love. Endure change, sacrifice, all for the hope that it is worth it...not guarantee, hope. There isn't much left in the world that we would do that for, especially in today's instant gratification society. What a thing to waste life on, to fear, to partake in. How do I know this? I might not have been in love, but I have loved to the point of obsession. I chase love. Chase it to beyond the point of logic. Even when I know that it isn't good for me, espectially when it isn't good for me. The obsession, the want to be with them, for them, plan my entire life around them regardless the lack of good that will do for me. I've been there. With friends, with family. I can only imagine what will come of me when the love that "One" is what's driving me. Everything I loathe, everything I resent will be exactly the path I walk down because of love. I may not have been "in love" but I have loved and the whole concept is stupid.
Love is emotional suicide.
When I was in middle school I made my first assertion on why I was afraid of falling in love. From the depths of my twelve or thirteen year old mind I pulled some of my first philosophical workings...or so I like to think.
"Falling in love is like jumping off of a cliff into the ocean. I'm afraid that I am going to make that jump and while I'm falling I'll find that there is no water to catch me. Instead all that is there is the ground." -younger me.
That was how I felt of love. How I still feel, only with more things accompanying. Love is amazingly self-serving and stupid. What a ridiculous concept to destroy yourself as you are (no matter how content) to add another set of opinions and objections. All of this while knowing that there is really no way to please the both of you (with compromise comes the inability to reach one's true happiness, so to live a life based on compromise is depressing). Yet, as a human we want someone to be there and support us. To have someone in our corner to understand and show us that we are not alone. We are willing to reach for this fairy tale companion ship and to receive every forthcoming nightmare that rides on the prospect of idea of being in this "next" stage of life.
The next "stage," a new "level." The insanity of it is absolutely preposterous. Nothing is able to stay the same. From mannerisms to ideas of life. The paths that one had once decided to walk upon are all of sudden unimportant. The rules of the society forces upon us the notion that one must forget themselves and take to this other. But what happens if the only one forgetting is you? What happens if your attempts to do as much are disregarded? If you chose because society said you should...and now your choice is proving to be the biggest trial and error of your life? What then? Pick up and go again? Find the self you abandoned to be who you are now? Or just find that there are no rebates, that you are stuck with where you are and what you've got?
We do all this for love. Endure change, sacrifice, all for the hope that it is worth it...not guarantee, hope. There isn't much left in the world that we would do that for, especially in today's instant gratification society. What a thing to waste life on, to fear, to partake in. How do I know this? I might not have been in love, but I have loved to the point of obsession. I chase love. Chase it to beyond the point of logic. Even when I know that it isn't good for me, espectially when it isn't good for me. The obsession, the want to be with them, for them, plan my entire life around them regardless the lack of good that will do for me. I've been there. With friends, with family. I can only imagine what will come of me when the love that "One" is what's driving me. Everything I loathe, everything I resent will be exactly the path I walk down because of love. I may not have been "in love" but I have loved and the whole concept is stupid.
Love is emotional suicide.
How many of me...
A few years back I went to Howmanyofme.com to see how many people have my name. Well, I was told that there were two. Just two. And I was excited to hear it. I mean, with my spelling it's more unique...with the last name not being hispanic.
My best friend is the first thing that comes up when you type his name in Google. I wanted to see exactly what came up when I google'd me. I am very dissapointed to find that there are at least four other people with my name. Go figure. Between this site, Facebook.com and Myspace I am doing more than dabbling in the internet...how ever the only thing that comes up of me is an article in the city newspaper that mentioned me. Something about some play I did when I was in high school (don't get me wrong, it is one of my shining moments). It's the seventh thing that comes up. What I find funniest is that a sublink to one of my friend's facebook page comes up but not mine.
I guess it makes me happy that I am not that easily tracked down...not that anyone is looking.
My best friend is the first thing that comes up when you type his name in Google. I wanted to see exactly what came up when I google'd me. I am very dissapointed to find that there are at least four other people with my name. Go figure. Between this site, Facebook.com and Myspace I am doing more than dabbling in the internet...how ever the only thing that comes up of me is an article in the city newspaper that mentioned me. Something about some play I did when I was in high school (don't get me wrong, it is one of my shining moments). It's the seventh thing that comes up. What I find funniest is that a sublink to one of my friend's facebook page comes up but not mine.
I guess it makes me happy that I am not that easily tracked down...not that anyone is looking.
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