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Men are stupid pigs who need to roll in their own filth
2004-11-04 at 10:38 p.m.
So. I've lost like, all of my readership ever. Except for like three people. *waves* Hi three people!
Anyway. I don't care. This isn't about the views, this isn't about banners, and this isn't about politics or religion.
This is about me writing, saying what I think, and trying to be witty about some things sometimes.
It does sting a little bit, but I know I let you guys down by disappearing so often, so, it's a mutual sting.
Today was rather... well, sucky. Second period was quite possibly the most boring class I've ever had. First period was TAKS test preparation (Benchmarks), which I hate and will always hate.
Third period was alright. Boring as well, though. And then there was fourth.
Now, I don't know what part of the brain this notion stems from, but I want to know why the *beep* boys think it's funny to constantly bombard me with "messengers" telling me that "So and so wants your number," "So and so really likes you," "So and so wants to know why you won't go out with him."
It's not. It wasn't funny the first time, and it's not funny now. It will never be funny.
What balls it must take to make fun of a girl over something that she's already been made fun of for her entire life.
What coolness you must possess to be able to spot something I've hated to live with for the past, ever, and then turn it against me. It's already *beep*ing against me! I've never ENJOYED being fat, and I've never enjoyed being guy-less while all my friends hooked up around me.
It's not clever. It takes no brain power whatsoever to see the fat chick and go "Oh, that girl is fat, she must be so insecure about it. Let's dig at it."
And you... god, you think you're so awesome. You elitist scum. You think your taste in music is superior to everyone else's. You like PUNK MUSIC. The land of three chords. You can play guitar well. I don't give a crap. I have friends who play guitar well and actually care about human beings around them.
You've treated me like filth from the moment you met me. Making stupid comments about t-shirts I wear, bands that happen to be on them... I never asked for your opinion, and I never even spoke to you, much less did I warrant being ridiculed and degraded in front of all your retarded groupies.
I try to avoid you. I know you're trouble. God, you're worse than the girl I complained about last year. At least she made threats because I was snarky first to her. At least she glared and made fun of me for a reason. At least she has a reason.
You look like a nice guy. She looked like a whore. You look like someone with a lot of friends. She looked like a loner in a gang.
I want to hate you. But all I can do is sit there and wonder why the heck you're like this. Why a good percentage of guys in this school are like this.
I've done nothing to them. Any of them. I've not talked to... hardly anybody in this school. A very small percentage if you look at our student body... I'm just so tired of it.
I thought once, it would stop. But... it hasn't.
God, I want to punch him. Even my friends, people I thought cared about me, laughed at it, though they called him names, they were still amused by it.
Maybe if it had been the first time, and I was in that company of friends, I might have found it funny.
But it just feels like another heavy coat, shielding me from being able to commit and connect to others.
I hate this. I hate boys.
I want to get as far away from High Schoolers as I can as soon as possible.
Best years of my life. Right.
Sorry. I have nothing else to say. That took all the skill and poetry and emotion right out of me.
I hate them so much. God. I won't let them see me cry, but that doesn't mean I don't at all.
<-Ghost->
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