Saturday, August 11, 2012
Sad birthday bears.....
A decent amount of people came to my party last year, but it was a big number that year, so I guess people made exceptions. Still, of the 50-something RSVPs I got, about 20 people actually showed up. It wouldn't have hurt my as much if people really, genuinely did have something better to do. They didn't. They went out and did the same shit they do every single Friday and Saturday night. How do I know? They have pictures of themselves tagged all over FaceBook. Then they think I'm stupid or something because they'll go, "Oooo, sorry, I already have other plans!"
....yeah....the same fucking plans you have every week all the time. I'm glad I'm so unimportant to you that you can't spare a fucking hour of your time to come say hello to me once a fucking year. Nope, it's more important to do the exact same stupid shit you do all the time. Thanks for reminding me that I'm nobody to you.
For this reason and many others, I always hate my birthday. Birthdays are little more than painful reminders that my life isn't at all where I want it to be. They make me realize how little I matter to anyone, how old and fat I am, and how much of a general failure at life I am.
I used to take solace in the fact that I did, at the very least, have two true friends. Welp....my closest friend moved to another city. She is still my closest friend, but it's really hard to keep a close friendship over distance. My next closest friend got brain AIDS or something and won't talk to me anymore for a bunch of really stupid reasons that I won't get into. Basically, after over a decade of friendship, she changed and I was okay with her changing, but she was mad that she couldn't force me to change in the same way. In summation, the two closest, most endeared folks I know are not really in my life anymore.
I don't really have passion for anything anymore. Dancing is something I've pretty much given up on. I still go dance regularly, but I've really kind of lost my passion for it. After three years of searching, I still have yet to find a dance partner. Part of it is because there are always about five females to every one male. The other part of it is that I'm just not hot and the handful of guys who take dance seriously want to dance with someone who looks good in very little clothing. That's not me. That will never be me.
Also, I can't afford a lot of lessons, so my ability to improve is limited. Provided, through my writing skills, I've been able to take a lot of really great workshops, but the problem is, what's the point? Sure, I can learn all these wonderful things, but who am I going to use these skills with? Nobody. Once again, I'm not hot enough for anybody to care if I'm a good dancer or not, and certainly not hot enough for anyone to take under his wing and try to grow as a dance couple with.
So, that's out.
Writing is really my only other passion and it's starting to go by the wayside too. I did have a pretty decently paid gig, but the people in charge of it were so disorganized that I couldn't stand to work with them anymore. So, I don't really know where to go with that either. I do genuinely believe I have a talent for writing, but once again, nobody notices or cares.
Tonight will probably be a disaster. A handful of people will probably show up just in time for me to have a nervous breakdown. I'll probably get too drunk and too emotional and pass out in some humiliating position that will prevent me from future political success, should that be an avenue I pursue.
Honestly, I just want to stay home for the next year or two and not deal with anybody or anything. Pin It