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So ... I'm frustrated.

Why does it bother me that fucknuts give more of a shit now about what I say based on a picture? Why does that concept bother me so much?
First of all, it's because I'm not a cute chick. This is from my perspective. From my perspective I am the same fat chick I was years ago. I'm ugly. I've always been ugly. The only thing about me that's ever been worth anything is my brain. My thoughts. The silliness I can incite and the thought I can provoke.

For awhile... I was a really good writer. For awhile. That went away somewhere. It peeks out now and again. Rarely. Once in a blue moon. Every once in awhile I write something that I find myself smiling at because, well, I'm vaguely proud. But, for the most part, I can't write in a way that engenders that reaction anymore.
So. I've got my intelligence. My very general intelligence. It's not centered in much of anything. I'm not an expert on any subject; My passions are not confined to one area of thought or study. Jack of all thought, master of none.

That gives me an odd depth. A strange and bizarre field to pull from wether we're just bullshitting or we're talking about American crime statistics. I've got a unique perspective because of my readings, but more because of my life. My life has made me into a bizarre creature. Just like every one of you. All of our lives make us the strange creatures that we are right now. We all know this. My life, when recounting parts of it to others, it seems was a particularly strange, horrible, damaging, and frightening thing. I say it WAS becuase I see a seperation between the then of my past and the now of my present. A stark seperation.

So I'm an odd one. If you actually know me... you'll know that this isn't just some construct. I really am not like anyone else you know. I know a lot of people who are not like anyone else I know. I ENJOY that.
But part of the things about me is that... well... I'm not an attractive girl. I don't have faith in myself. I'm convinced of my weakness and of my stupidity.
But I just said I was intelligent, right? I've implied that I'm strong.
I am both.
I know that I'm attractive at the same time that you will never convince I'm nothing but grotesque.
In short... I'm bright enough to know the truth, but not confident enough to really claim it.
So it smacks me as false when people give me compliments about .. oh .. anything.
Especially when it comes to what I look like.

Then, if I give the thought a chance, and admit that I'm not all that bad looking, it pisses me off that that... that silly arbitrary thing is what is getting focused on. That it somehow matters. That it's somehow important when my whole life I've had to convince myself that looks WEREN'T important because... well... I looked horrible.
It's very important for fat girls to believe that looks don't matter. That people love the inside. The who are matters more than what you look like.
And it's rare that anyone but fat girls and fat guys ever learn how to impliment that in their lives. It's so fucking sad and pathetic of us as humans in general.

It's bizarre and offensive to be oogled. I never knew that until now. Really. It took me until 24 to realize that it's offensive to be paid attention to only for my looks.
Very offensive.

Okay. SO that's the thing that annoyed me today. Part of it.. some of it.. there's more... soooo much more.

I've explained this before.. but I guess it doesn't sink in. Doesn't matter. People will be people and that capriciousness and unpredictability is something I usually enjoy. But well, fuck on a stick, man. Sometimes... you just can't joke with me. Sometimes it just hurts. Sometimes.. I'm just angry.
And despite the lessons you've been taught laughter is not necessarily always the best medicine. No, really... sometimes it's not. Sometimes just shutting up and letting me be angry is best. And sometimes, being angry WITH me is best. And ya know, sometimes... sometimes just being shown some low level compasion is best.
It depends.
And truth be told, most of you will probably never figure out which is which and , I doubt most of you would really care to... I uh .. I'd probably think you were weird if you wanted to.
The people who really matter to my immediate well being.. they know. Chad knows just when to say what and he knows what I need and when I need it.
That's all that really matters.

And today.. I felt mocked. I felt mocked by someone I used to be really close with who .. hehe.. really I haven't talked to in *so* long. Except when it's a joke.
So, it's hard to take a little silly prodding while I'm pissed off from someone I *used* to know.
And ya know, dude.. what's with the rewriting of history?
I know about love. Trust me.. I *know* about love. But ... she's the only person you ever called and sang to with a song you wrote for them? She's the only RGer you *ever* really liked?
I understand love... but I thought I understood friendship too.

And it's *entirely* possible I'm wrong about some or most or all of it.
If so, disregard it entirely.

It's hard to talk to you with you so happy and me so sad. So very fucking sad. It's hard to see you with your "very soons" and your plans that just seemed to happen so effortlessly and me still here, still up in the air, still in love with someone I can't touch. Still so far away from my happiness.
It's hard to smile for you.
It's so hard that I don't think I can do it.
It's bitter and self centered.
But it's also honest.
::shrug:::

It will probably be better at some point. But not right now when the weight of my badness is so huge. I have my good days. Yesterday, for example. I felt expansive and warm and wonderful yesterday. It goes back and forth. I'm horribly sad right now. Chad alleviates that. He gives me hope. He makes me smile. He makes me see what I know.. which is that we're going to be *great*.. not just okay. We will be great. And if I could keep that feeling all the time, I would. Because he's really the only thing keeping me sane at this point.
The last couple years of my life have been pretty consistently horrible until he stepped into it. And he can't hold back the horrible all my himself. And as much as I would love him to...even if he could... it's not fair.

So... there are other things.. but I don't have the stamina right now.
I'm sleep deprived and achey and I just want to talk to Chad and have him make me smile for awhile.

I'm disabling comments for the first time ever. Because I don't what I've said in this very public way to be questioned in a more thoroughly public way. And I'm allowed that nicety.
If you want to say something to me.. I have an email address.

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