Posts Tagged ‘self-deprecation’

What Did I Do To Deserve This Life

What did I do to deserve this life. Oh yeah, I was just myself. How the world hates that. Sometimes I think we should bring back modest clothing and arranged marriages. F**k sake. Why do girls have to be so sexy? Why do they have to wear such revealing clothing when they are out on the town, that torments and tortures all guys who have no chance in hell of ever coming even within 10 feet of them? Why the hell am I this shy, why can’t I go out to town and get with some random girl? Why, when I’m nearly 20, have I never even held hands with a girl, never mind anything else? Why do women find me so repulsive and uninteresting? Why am I so repulsive and uninteresting? Why doesn’t ‘being yourself’ actually count for f**k all in the real world? Maybe I should resort to internet dating. Maybe I should go to a strip club or pay for a prostitute. Or maybe I should just throw in the towel. Anything to get me away from this torment. I wish there was so such thing as sex or girls.


Pissed Off

I’m pissed off. Really pissed off. I feel like hitting something. But I don’t know why. Well, that’s not exactly true. I suspect why I feel this way, but I’m not sure because it seems to be something a bit silly to get pissed off about. Perhaps, though, it’s only one reason, of many, why I’m pissed off. But probably the main reason.

You see, yesterday J-O had her prom, so I didn’t talk to her last night. She texted me in the morning (strangely), saying she was going to bed and that later she would talk to me and tell me stuff about the prom. Then when I logged on to Facebook a little earlier I found she had posted a message on my Wall saying she was going to bed early and that she’s going on a trip ‘with her classmates’ for a few days, out of the blue, and that she’d text me.

I dunno, I don’t like the fact I’m not going to speak to her for a few days, after she said she’d talk to me about the prom tonight, and that this trip has suddenly appeared out of nowhere. I’m being unreasonable, aren’t I? I cannot expect her to ‘drop everything’, not have a life just because I’m such a needy ‘girls blouse’. This could turn into a bit of a problem.

I can also foresee another problem, that has just actually, right now, hit me. I’m back to my old depressed self. That didn’t take long. I hate how I’m so dependant on her already and how I might impede her in the future, if we do eventually get together if she finally makes it over. F**k sake.

A Warning to the Women of the World

He feels he wants to send a message
To all the girls of the world
Telling them what they’re missing
But here is what they are avoiding

One who does not know of women
Of what they desire
What they need

One who does not know of social interaction
Of holding conversation
Making friends

One who is a hermit, a recluse
Of staying indoors
Being boring

One who can love, yes
But what can you do
When the rest
Is useless

I Still Think About Her

Hey, it’s yet another post about that girl I used to like. Boring, I know. Anyway, I still think about her. It’s so stupid. As I said before, it’s really just because she is really fit that I liked her. Every time I see her or think about her, I always think how great it would be to her as my girlfriend, someone that so incredibly sexy. But I know there was never a chance of that – I knew that from the beginning. (All this is against my ‘principles’, I know).

I still kind of hate her. Well, I don’t really. I hate myself for thinking I had a chance. I hate myself for thinking of her only in terms of her body. I hate how, even now, I cannot get over the fact she rejected me. What is wrong with me, seriously? Is is because she is the last person that I fancied, that I need someone new to enter my sights to get rid of this cloud that hangs over me.


I Hate…

I hate my spotty face. I hate my big nose. I hate my big feet. I my slowly-growing waistline. I hate my teeth. I hate my body.

I hate my awkwardness. I hate my shyness. I hate my lack of a sense of adventure. I hate my lack of wanting to try new things. I hate my mind’s obsession with girls, and hugs from girls. I hate my ego, which feels deeply every slight blow to it. I hate the way the love for my friends keeps me worried about how they may feel towards me.

I wish I was someone else. But I’m stuck with me, in this ugly body, and this stupid, wacky mind.

Frustration Upon Frustration

I’m frustrated. I’m frustrated on two levels. I’m emotionally frustrated, and I’m sexually frustrated (yeah, I bet you really wanted to know that. not). But there is only one cause. The thing I always go on about constantly, the one that you must be sick to death of hearing from my boring blog: girls. It’s always about girls. I wish it wasn’t, but as a guy at my age I just. can’t. help. it. So sue me.

Here we go again. I’ll list the old clichés that I want to write down in respect of these thoughts of frustration. Feel free to doze off.

I want someone that I can hold close. I want someone to kiss. I want someone to.. you know. I want someone to talk to. I want someone to listen to. I want somebody to love me. I want someone who I can give all my love to.

I just want some nice, pretty girl to like me, go out with me, get to know me, and, hopefully, eventually love me. I just don’t want to be alone any more.

The Most Sheltered Existance in the History of University Life

Yeah I’ve just realised I’ve probably lead, and am going to lead, the most sheltered university life ever.

I was talking to a friend you see and he’s been to lots of parties and clubbing e.t.c every week and says his girl total so far (I’m not sure if this is just making out or sex or what, he didn’t really say, although I suspect it’s the latter rather than the former (who really uses ‘latter’ and ‘former’ these days anyway?) because, well, that’s how teenagers are) is 11 – and 4 of those were in freshers week!

I’m going to come out of university even more of a social misfit than when I went in, and will still be a complete virgin for probably a long time after that even. Then again, sex and girls aren’t everything in life.

At least, that’s what I try to tell myself – but it doesn’t ever get through…

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