If my blog is about "things worth thinking (and complaining) about", why do I write so much about myself?

It's likely someone's thought this about this lovely blog of mine. If nobody has, then you're not doing enough thinking. Think, people, it's not illegal yet.

Now, if you've been following me for a decent amount of time, you'd know that one of the things I tend to write about is myself. My narcissism, frustration, desire, I've been writing about what I feel, what I think, how I feel, how I think, it's just about me (now, you could blame this on my narcissism, but bear with me here). First, however, we'd need to go into why I write.

We all have our way of venting, releasing, getting it out, whatever 'it' may be. Writing is my way of doing so. I get home, I overload myself with the primary emotion I felt that day, and I get it out with my fingers (well that just sounds wrong). I tap the keys, and I feel my emotions drain into the keyboard and into the post. The posts are memories, how I felt at certain times, and they are moments frozen in time, that I can look back at and remember, like photos.

Yes, it is possible that Gallifrey is frozen in one of my blog posts. 

I write about what I feel because it helps me let out my emotions. There are days when even the distraction of a cell phone doesn't help. I feel sad, or angry, and I have no idea why, and I need to let it out. I enjoy writing about other things: If the Serenity encountered the Destiny, if Loki was banished to earth to live as a human with Steve Rogers (sitcom style), and even if Pinkie Pie guided Dante through hell. I write about quite a lot, although none are as emotionally cleansing as my blog is. However, just the idea of saying something and getting it out there is uplifting for me.

Have you ever felt like you had something so important on your mind you just needed to say it? I feel that way, sometimes, and it's how George Carlin did his specials. (I do recommend watching the videos in this post)

Basically, Louis CK wrote a shit comedy routine when he first started out, then, inspired by George Carlin, he chucked it out onstage 15 years later and just said what he felt, and thus began his road to fame as a successful comedian. This in turn has inspired me to say and write what I feel, usually without regard for any possible consequences. When I mentioned in my previous blog post that Mikayla was my crush (I seriously doubt she likes me back, but I really want to at least tell her and get it out, just in case she's been given shitty romantic advice and is playing hard to get), my thinking was basically, "fuck it, why not?"

My honesty basically stems from how annoyed/exasperated I am, although I will attempt to be honest even when I'm feeling great. When I was writing that blog post about my narcissism, it was midnight, or close to midnight, I was pretty annoyed, mind you, and that's when I thought "fuck it", and I wrote her name in there, and it's pretty obvious she hasn't read it yet because I know her, and she doesn't like to bullshit people, which is something we have in common. If she found out that I had feelings for her, if she didn't like me back, no matter how close we could be, she'd still tell me that she didn't like me back, and I appreciate that in a person, not just a romantic partner. (One other thing is I'm kinda doubting how well of a boyfriend I could be to her, as being friendly and loving online is a lot easier than being friendly and loving in real life. Sure, I seem epic, and I kind of am, but real life me is a piece of shit)

It is now that I realize I might've gone too far off topic, then again, perhaps not.

I feel nothing about my parents' divorce. My dad divorced my mother, it's been found he was likely having an affair (FYI if my dad is reading this, no hard feelings), and now we're moving from the house I grew up in because my dad apparently has ceased to care about us. My sister's being battered pretty hard by these events, while I've just stood there as she came to me for comfort, and I've had to give more hugs than I've needed for myself. I haven't felt a single thing towards this. It's just something that's happening. Just because I've said this, I now feel better about it.

I have, however, felt this...emptiness that I feel. I'll be lying around, not doing anything, and I'll just feel sad, with no idea why. It's why I wrote this blog post, because I felt sad, and I needed to cleanse my emotions. Louis CK mentions this about cell phones, how electronics are our way of shutting out the sadness of life, despite the happiness that follows, just so we don't have to feel the preliminary sadness of it. I know this, and I do try to be on my phone less, but I don't just be online because of Reddit. I'm online because I have friends here, and I like to check in on how they're doing. Just because I've gotten this out, I now feel better about it.

I feel this way, and when I write about this, I feel like I have a heavy heart. I always feel it when I write about this, then once I submit the post, the weight dissipates, leaving me awake and aware. I then feel conscious, that I am free once more, my burden finally shed with the latest blog entry. I can now fly once again.

This is such a pain in my heart

I also feel about the comments of my blog posts. Whenever I post something, I always get praise (which I'm certainly not complaining about), but I want more than that. I opened this post telling you to think, and when you comment, I want to hear what You think. The internet isn't here so that I can preach to you what I think, I also want you to preach to me. What do you think? How does this make you feel? I felt a certain way about this, how do you feel about me feeling that way? I want you to lecture to me, just as I lecture to you. Got it? Good, now if you would please follow my blog so I can get a sense of how many people actually read it.

This shit that I write about myself and how I feel is much more than just something worth thinking about. I'm giving everyone who reads my posts insight into who I am, how I feel, and how I see everything around me. This isn't just something worth thinking or complaining about. This is something more than that.

This is the world in the eyes of a visionary.

Summer: A Time of Peace and Self-Reflection on My Ever-Increasing Narcissism

My first blog entry in a while, and it's in the middle of summer. Happy fourth of July, fuckers. 

Freedom, motherfuckers!

I'm feeling much better than I was at school. I know I went through my metamorphosis a month or two back, and I know I'm a changed man. I feel much happier, now that, despite going through a month of stress free school, I have nothing to occupy my head. I had stressfully and painstakingly kept my grades high enough the rest of the year that, when my productivity ceased, I merely coasted in just above the mark. I now continue to go to my high school. Yay me, especially considering sophomore year is the hardest at my school ("oh, you're completely stressed out with complicated homework? lol, have a menial art project!"). 

Now nothing occupies my head. All I do is relax, relaxation that is well earned, in my opinion. I'm doing so much yet so little. I feel great. The only problems I do face is the stress of moving. (come on! I was planning on getting shit done this summer!) As a result of my parents' divorce, my mother has to move house to sustain us, given we can no longer afford the huge awesome house we have now. I'm perfectly fine with it, but I had plans, and moving's gonna set them back. 

I feel nothing concerning the divorce, but I do feel something. See, I don't normally feel. 10th Doctor regenerating? I listen to the music to help me sleep. [SPOILER] dying at the end of Allegiant? Didn't shed a single tear. Ponds getting sent back in time? I smiled. The Fault in Our Stars? Better love story than twilight.

Bottom line is, I don't normally feel shit. Others at least feel sad. I don't. (yes, I know, I'm inhuman) and yet, I feel something. Unrelated to my school stress, unrelated to my familial situation. I don't know what it is. I'll just be watching a YouTube series, it'll end, and I'll be left alone with my thoughts for 20 minutes, and that's when I start to feel sad. I don't know why, I just randomly become depressed.

Scratch that, I think I may know why. Fuck, I may just know for certain why. Because I'm reflecting upon myself. I see myself because when I'm at home and I have nothing to occupy my mind with, I have nothing to distract me with but myself. I'm self absorbed, and pretty much everyone knows this who bothers to get to know me. I view myself as so awesome you should have permission to even touch me (not permission to look at me, that'd be a crime against humanity to restrict that). I'm vain, and pompous, and I view myself as better than everyone I know, even everyone within 100 miles of me (I'm in Texas, I'm better than at least 75% of those people). I am utterly amazing, and there is no possible reason why my crush shouldn't already adore me; Mikayla should feel privileged that I've taken a liking to her (yes, I finally said her name). All of my friends should feel privileged to be liked by a person as epic as me.

I mean, come on, don't I look like a supremely epic badass?

Oh fuck I am definitely pushing it.

My point is that, like my father (don't get me wrong, he's a great guy), I'm a narcissist. The difference between me and my father is that he wants everything to go his way, I mean, we all do, but he's kinda hissy about it (again, no offense, dad! you're pretty great!), he's not really adaptable if things don't go his way. While I know that not everything's going to go my way and I should be considerate to others, I carry the same flaw, if not worsened. My father's vanity is inconsideration, while mine is self-infatuation. My father cares mainly for himself out of selfishness, while I view myself as superior based on just plain self-absorption. 

Now to throw a ring into a fiery mountain. Actually, no, that's below me.

People view themselves to be 5 times less ugly than they are? bullshit, I view myself as 15 times that. As a result of my pompousness, my modesty has also adapted to compensate. I claim myself to be the most amazing being on earth, and then I'll self-deprecate by following up with "Jk, I'm a piece of shit" (and that's how I react to my vanity on a good day), and I am. I'm a piece of shit. I know that not everyone is supposed to be utterly perfect, save myself, but should I really be as vain as I am?

I still hate that fact of my modesty as well. I know in my heart that it's true, but somehow I unconsciously began to exploit that knowledge. I began to use my modesty as a sympathy plea. I'll admit I'm stupid when I've bragged of myself and who I am, and when people hear that, they take pity on me and accept me more. Great job utilitarian me, now I feel horrible.

I make an effort to not be vain, to know that even though I am better than those around me, I am also equal. My love for myself still shines through and I seem pretentious (as my crush called my journal entries), mainly because I am pretentious. I fear it overcoming me. It is the monster inside of me, it is my sin: pride (even though I am a fan of all seven). Hubris remains my fatal flaw. I'm badass. I'm awesome. I'm shit. I know I'm shit, yet I view myself as awesome. That's why I'm sad, because I know that I am worse because I seem better in my own eyes.

This is Captain Dirk AJ Yaple of Serenity, and I'm feeling 10 feet tall.

Okay, here's a disclaimer for you, since I obviously need to put one here for certain reasons.

1. I told my doctor about my suicidal thoughts during my regeneration two months back and how I got over them. Instead of congratulating me he was concerned, and I understand why, but let me make this abundantly clear: I will never commit suicide. I'll feel like it at times, but I never will do it. Ever. I've got too much. Too much to do, too much to see, too many books and movies to watch and read. I don't deny that I'll want to. Whenever I'm stressed out, it'll always appeal itself to me, but I'll never appeal to it. I will never kill myself. Even if I do, I'll do it in some epic way. Fuck hanging or cutting, I'm gonna pull an Evil Kinevil stunt that ends in my certain death. I will not go out quietly. Capiche? good.

2. Dad, I hate to admit it, but yes, you are narcissistic. You are inconsiderate. The fact is that you apologize and deflect blame sometimes, but you never really admit your faults like I do. I'm an open book with them, I have nothing to hide. I will gladly go up to some random person on the street and tell them everything that's wrong with me right at the start. Right then and there. I don't want to seem critical, but I don't like to hide shit. Accept responsibility for once, as I learned to do early on. By acknowledging you're broken, you end up fixing yourself, if only slightly. Please take this into consideration, dad, I know you can.

3. Oh gods Mikayla will have words for me. (this isn't a disclaimer)

4. Happy fourth of July, fuckers