Skip to main content

Gay boys suck balls.

My urge to poeticize this is pretty intense, however my thoughts are scattered.
So there's very few people I actually despise; at the moment only one really comes to mind. The other day a boy I've really liked for a long while now--with whom I used to hook up & hang out with adorably quite a bit--informed me he was gonna go sex about with this faggot I dislike.


Naturally there was quite a flurry of feelings--hurt, anger, resentment, etc. Of course it's not like I have exclusive rights to the boy I've liked; he/we drifted hard and fast last spring and both of us have seen plenty of other people. Of course, logic like that means little when you feel hurt.

I think some of the anger came from his even telling me. Why on earth would I want to know this! I like him and hate the faggot he hooked up with; there's nothing about that equation that equals 'wants to know'. I was also angry (and hurt) that it felt like he was telling me, "No, I don't want you.", that if given a choice he'd choose someone else over me. It's not like i've pined and cried after him for months, but it's hard to shake liking someone when it reaches a certain point, and so it's hard not to feel hurt and angry when they don't want you--not even to hang out with nevermind fuck to oblivion.

(Of course, I was angry at that skank, the one I dislike so much, because he's never shown such outright interest in me! Which is funny since I'd never hook up with him; it's just the principle of it.)

And of course I resented them both. I already resented the other faggot, the one I dislike so much, and so I only resented him more. "Why does he get to have him??" But I also resented the one I like; I have always resented him and this just focused those sentiments to a point. I've harbored some degree of resentment ever since things didn't work out/go further between us.


It's all so foolish, though. None of it matters. If he doesn't want me, then he doesn't want me, and I can't change that, and I'm the one getting so fussed up over it. If that other faggot pisses me off, I'm the one who lets it get to me. All this drama-rama only serves to preclude a friendship with either of them--hell, even that faggot has to have something to offer, if only accidental lulz.

And I still like this boy. Not like, "Ooo, I want to date him naaao!!" or shit; it's just that unshakable liking--caring. But if I can't just like him, and accept liking him, for liking him's sake; if I can't just hang out with him for hanging out's sake; and i let my diseased brain extrapolate all manner of shoulds and oughts--we should be dating, he ought to see how much I care about him--; then I'll only end up hurting myself, him, anyone, everyone. For fuck's sake, who wants to date someone who writes emo blogposts about you??

Comments

  1. damn it broski
    your wonderful
    i know how you feel i have gone through the same stuff with a lot of my lady friends
    why does she always love the people that will hurt her, why doesnt she date me because i use my words not my fists
    it pisses me off a lot but we are both emo
    all i write is emo stuff as well

    also i liked how you used sake in the last paragraph
    hims sake and fuck sake
    its a good idea
    really enjoyed it but yes it is emo but its ok to be emo
    love you bro
    your roommate parker

    ReplyDelete
  2. haha, incoming hug imminent.... ;p

    but yeah, it's not even about his wanting to sleep with people who'll hurt him; it's much more selfish than that...

    oh well XD
    ~Palmer

    ReplyDelete

Post a Comment

Rage, rage against the dying of the light.
Or just tell me what you think.

Other things that might interest you...

On aging, and fear.

To begin with, I’m not sure you’re aware of it, but I’m middle aged. Oh? What gave it away? Using a blog as my primary literary medium?¹ Hm. But in fact, the APA defines 35 years as the end of “young adulthood.” Yeah. I found out via some shitpost on twitter when I was already 35, so it didn’t sit well with me then either. But my worries about aging began much sooner than that. See, even in my 20s, I feared I’d been wasting my life. I’d struggled with school and life and everything since graduating high school, arguably sooner, and nothing seemed to be going anywhere meaningful . I felt I had a limited social life, a dead-end job, no money, no great travels, a limping love life; I was, generally, a loser, wasting away... There were none of the usual hallmarks of success or happiness. And that scared me. Would my life have been worth it if I continued in this direction? Would it have been a “life well lived” by the end? So, this is my existential struggle. Even now, as I lurch ever nea

Changing lanes.

I was driving home in some traffic last night when I drifted, in my mind, a long way back (about 20 years) to high school. I was caught in one of those periodic traffic slowdowns as I floated back; you know, those waves of congestion that seem to pass backward through the columns of cars in each lane. (I've heard they start because someone switches lanes, and in response, a rippling emergent slowness travels backward and outward as the cars behind it accommodate the change, one by one.) What drew me back to those younger days was that, back in high school, similar phenomena of congestion took place in the halls between classes, when eddies of young humans would get caught in and around those clumps of those chatting by lockers or retrieving books. Occasionally, backups would occur when groups of people got caught in these eddies, or collided with other groups by the lockers, and slowdowns would ripple back from there. Maybe it's not exactly the same, but as I drove it seemed si

Oatmeal is tasty.

{slurps up berry-oatmeal-deliciousness} Indeed. I need to work on rebuilding a morning schedule. I can be zombie-like enough that I'll waste a perfectly good morning, and have often slept through many. And, really, it's such a useful time of day.