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