Anything but this.

I feel absolutely terrible tonight. Not quite beyond words because words can do damn near anything, but probably beyond what I'm capable of saying. My parents tell me I'm a great writer, but I suck at conveying feelings, and thoughts, and emotions, and anything really worth writing about. I'm just decent at writing a story.

I was talking to Lexie Mumey earlier tonight, and we got on the subject of Brenna which then moved to religion and now I just feel like I want to cry, or my chest wants to rip open, and I just want to go to sleep at this point. I'm not saying Lexie made me feel like shit, not at all. She was just who I was talking to.

In an attempt to feel a little better, I've been listening to Na Na Na by My Chemical Romance on repeat for maybe an hour, but I don't think it's really helping. Here are the lyrics for posterity.

(Na Na Na...)

Drugs
Gimme drugs
Gimme drugs
I don't need 'em
But I'll sell what you got
Take the cash
And I'll keep it
Eight legs to the wall
Hit the gas
Kill 'em all
And we crawl
And we crawl
And we crawl
You be my detonator

Love
Gimme love
Gimme love
I don't need it
But I'll take what I want
From your heart
And I'll keep it in a bag
In a box
Put an X on the floor
Gimme more
Gimme more
Gimme more
Shut up and sing it with me

(Na Na Na...)

From mall security
To every enemy
We're on your property
Standing in V formation

(Na Na Na...)

Let's blow an artery
Eat plastic surgery
Keep your apology
Give us more detonation

(More! Gimme more! Gimme more!)

Oh, let me tell ya 'bout the sad man
Shut up and let me see your jazz hands
Remember when you were a madman
Thought you was Batman
Hit the party with a gas can
Kiss me you animal

(Na Na Na...)

You run the company
Fuck like a Kennedy
I think we'd rather be
Burning your information

Let's blow an artery
Eat plastic surgery
Keep your apology
Give us more detonation

And right here
Right now
All the way in Battery City
The little children
Raised their open filthy palms
Like tiny daggers up to heaven
And all the juvee halls
And the ritalin rats
Ask angels made from neon
and fucking garbage
Scream out!
"What will save us?"
And the sky opened up

Everybody wants to change the world
Everybody wants to change the world
But no one,
No one wants to die
Wanna try, wanna try, wanna try
Wanna try, wanna try, now
I'll be your detonator

(Na Na Na...)

Make no apologies
It's death or victory
On my authority
Crash and burn
Young and loaded

Drop like a bulletshell
Dress like a sleeper cell
I'd rather go to hell
Than be in purgatory
Cut my hair
Gag and bore me
Pull this pin
Let this world explode

The very first time I heard this song, I flipped out. I danced like crazy, shouted the chorus, the whole shebang. I have not heard such a cool and awesome song in years, not since the first time I listened to Afterlife. It's not doing much for me right now. I was hoping it might cheer me up, or at least even out my head, because I'm running on all cylinders and am generally having an awful night. My mom is probably going to have us go to church tomorrow, and it's 2:09 in the morning, and tomorrow (today) is going to be terrible.

But it didn't. And now I'm flipping SHIT because I'm lonely, and I just want someone to talk to me, and no one will. For the longest time, I would only try to talk to one or two people on facebook, and then say "Oh, no one wants to talk to me!" even though I didn't even try to talk to anyone else. But recently, I've found that what I said a while back holds true. When I want to talk to someone, it is incredibly rare that I'll get someone I want to have conversation with immediately and they'll stick around. Half the time I get a formal "hi" and that's it. Either this past week or the week before (I honestly can't remember at this point) I put a status up on facebook telling people to just fucking ignore me if they're going to say "hi" and then stop responding. But the worst is that even people who are awesome and just fun to hang out and talk with won't even respond. Some of my close friends either don't get the message, or something else happens and they let it go by. I don't know why, but it's one of many things that have me so close to breaking down that I'm terrified if I will see another peaceful day in the foreseeable future.

If anyone caught my Tweet about the technological black hole earlier, it's not helping either. I understand that technology isn't the end-all-be-all. But goddammit, when that's one of the only sources of interaction I have, I'd really like for it to work like it's supposed to.

"You know what really grinds my gears?

You, America! **** you!"

I kid, people, I kid.

But don't push berserk buttons for a laugh. I can understand finding a flustered and confused person funny, but someone who is genuinely distressed or pissed off is not funny. At all. I know this because I live in a city where that is a favorite past time. For those of you who are bothering to read this and perhaps have read it from the beginning, well, that's partially why I started this here blag. I know the entire schtick at the beginning was to "save my reputation!" Yes. Kinda like trying to save an Ensign on Star Trek. He is, for all intents and purposes, already dead. Yeah. Anyway: Jack said that part of the problem with the entire Kill/Fuck/Marry scenario was that I was freaking out so bad over what everyone was saying, and that I should have just tried to play it cool, but I can't. I cannot stand the idea that people actually get enjoyment out of others' suffering. There's a word for that: torture. Yeah. I live in the vicinity of a ton of a sadists. Awesome.

I get that part that playing it cool takes away from the fun of people looking to get a jolly out of a pissed off person, but then that clicks: These people are fucking sadists. And yeah, I lose it at that point.

My friend Tai here has an awesome shirt on the subject:

Atta girl.

Infatuation sucks.

THE END. Zorz. The endzorz. Yeah.



But really, it does kinda stink.

Glee? Skag that.

I'd be amazed if anyone didn't know what Glee is. It's ridiculously popular, with an emphasis on ridiculous.

So, a bunch of my friends and siblings love Glee, but when Buzz saw the episode with One by U2, he said he hated it. He said it stripped the soul from the song, which is of course what made it great.

I've never like Glee, ever since I first heard when they first played their rendition of Don't Stop Believin'. It, guess what, stripped the soul out of the song!

Now I'm not saying that the people in Glee aren't talented. They are. A lot more talented than I am. But they're trying to shoehorn amazing songs that each have an incredibly unique vocal style into maybe... Two different vocal types? I mean, yeah, the voices sound different and stuff. But the styles are all incredibly similar. You can't have three guys that sound super similar try to do Steve Perry, then Bono, and then Jim Morrison. It just cannot happen. Seriously, get out if you're going to try it.

HELL-o.

As wonderfully misleading the title may be, I'm not to spam "hell", though I'm kinda feeling like I just got dragged through there and back a few times.

I just got hit with a huge wave of nostalgia/betrayal/pain about Brenna. I mean, I never fail to bitch about her, but this was... Wow. This one was really bad. Like, I miss having someone to whom I can talk who will almost always reply.

I probably shouldn't have just switched over to pure LoG, but I was listening to my entire iTunes library on shuffle, and I was just getting more depressed. Nothing like some good ol' RAGE (tm) to calm my gut.

Where was I? I mean, I miss the physical side of our relationship, and I don't mean sex, I'm still a virgin, but more the part that I always had someone there. There were times when for whatever reason I couldn't see Brenna, almost always her dad's doing, but I could still text her or call her. And now what? I wouldn't talk to her if she were the one person my phone could call, but it's still totally hit-and-miss on whether or not someone else will talk to me. You know, I typed that up without really thinking about the word "still", but that's entirely true. It was and always has been hit-and-miss.

It really doesn't help that my best friend totally dropped the ball today. You know, I was totally cool with the fact that he has had school the past two months, but don't stop by, say "Yeah, we're totally going to hang out on Thursday!" and then not show up or even tell me why the hell you were gone. It's really hard to not cuss you out, because that was a huge douche bag move.

Alright. I'm done. There's my thoughts. Do with them what you will.

Mmm whatcha said...

I don't say "I'm sorry" when something bad happens to someone and it's not my fault, because I don't have anything to be sorry for. However, I can say "my condolences" because that is perfectly viable.

BTDub, I'm not saying that I never say "I'm sorry." If I screw up, yes, I'll say that I'm sorry. Gosh.

"Now let me put this in a way you'll understand..."

I have anger issues. I get angry and frustrated far too easily, and then when I realize that the things causing my anger and frustration are all due to my own actions, all of it redoubles and I just end up sad and pissed off.

But let me clarify. I'm sure most of you reading this have thought "Great, he really is a psychopath." But I think that's the connection that people make between having anger issues and the way they carry them out. Yeah, there are the exceptions to the rule where people with anger issues don't deal with it violently, but that's what everyone jumps to, right? If they can punch something a few times, they feel better. Often, they punch something much smaller and weaker than they are, then they feel in control, and they had frustration because events were out of their control, etc. And it all just ends in a big mess because they had a short temper and a penchant for violence.

But how many of you who know me can honestly call me a violent person? Maybe some of you who have seen just how unbelievably obscene my language have made that conclusion. I don't blame you. Like my last post, while it sucks how far gone my reputation is, it's my fault, too. I certainly wasn't helping it, at any rate.

You know, it just occurred to me that maybe some of you just don't really like me. I like to think that I'm an extremely likable person; I've been told that enough to hold some stock in it. And those of you who say otherwise, well, that's probably my fault. And I certainly have no end to my whining which is definitely off putting, but I'm going to be really, really arrogant here and say that my best is pretty good. And if not, I hope there are some brownie points in calling myself out on ladling compliments on myself.

But, unlike my last post where I violently (if only in words) and horribly demanded answers (I'm sorry for that, by the way), I'll just leave a request that you don't count me out. All I'd really like is someone to talk to, and see every so often. Goodnight.

P.S.: To you, and you might not read this, much less know that I'm specifically talking to you, I really did want to take you out to a movie.

It can't be said that I'm not to blame, but...

I'm a little aware of just how terrible my reputation is. I have never considered myself very popular, or even well-liked. And even when I think about how other people think of me, and trust me when I say that I am extremely under-informed--kinda the point of this post--it's not entirely good things. Yeah, I'm eccentric, and I don't mean in that bullshit "I'm really random, but if you can handle me, I'm fun!" way that I see in so many fucking people.

I mean I'm fucking weird. Jack says, though I disagree, kudos to him for putting up with me, that I'm irrational. Well who the hell isn't? You want entirely rational? Go read 1984, or Brave New World. Want me to spoil you a big similarity between them? The worlds of those books are fucking awful. 1984 is almost literally hell on Earth, and while I didn't get very far into Brave New World, it was pretty shitty there, too.

So yeah, I have a reputation of being weird, and crazy, and all kinds of things that people flip-flop on what is good or bad. People get freaked out when I blow up over something, when they're fucking ramming my buttons to see me squirm, and then they back off and talk endless shit about me when I blow up like anyone should. Not like anyone would, because the world as I know it is so incredibly fucked up (You'll notice I'm using that a lot, because that's what it is. Horrifically, inexplicably wrong.) that there's no way to try to hold an expectation for a natural response. You have think "Okay, I want to, need to, punch this bitch in the face for what she's saying to me, but that's wrong. I have to trade bullshit comments because otherwise I'm a raging lunatic instead a really pissed off and hurt child." What the fuck kind of world is it if that's the response I'm being told to relegate?

Now since I can't live up to the expectations of where I'm from, I get to hang around in my house because no one wants to fucking see me, or talk to me, or interact with me because they think I'm crazy. What the hell does that mean? The dictionary definition of insanity: Repeating the same action expecting a different result. I won't go so far as to say that legitimately and clinically insane people are the only ones who have genuine human reactions, because that's just not right, but you know what? I'm not fucking dangerous if that's what you're thinking. Bryce said I get angry just as easily as my dad, and I told him that he was wrong. My dad and I blow up over not very small things, but very specific things that we give you ample warning to not fucking touch.

On the subject, and because it's an excellent example, I have serious possession and property issues. I'm not saying that I'm possessive of people, or that I'm a klepto. Growing up, there were almost no boundaries in my house as far as nearly all my brothers were concerned. Ben took whatever the hell he wanted, Buzz sometimes did though he wasn't nearly as bad about it as Ben, well, still is, Bryce kept to himself mostly, and Brook just pissed everyone off. Nowadays, when I get angry about someone messing with my computer, or taking my phone and hiding it, or some stupid game they're playing, they get offended that I would be so arrogant or some bullshit that I need to get so defensive. You know, not that years of conditioning have sculpted my mind into thinking that anything I have needs to be defended with tooth and nail, because otherwise it will get taken and that will be the end of it.

I have had one very small boon in my life so far, and that's been that I'm not talked about much. The most I've had up until roughly my Senior year in high school has been "Oh, Baylor Becker? He's smart, quiet, kinda weird." Of course, when I am talked about and it's not very favorable, I feel the need to defend myself. If I don't, who will? And thanks to the wonderful world I live in that means you have to tear the other person down while not missing a goddamn step or else you automatically fucking lose, anytime I try to say something, it gets taken out of context, or people move words around in my sentence, and then I'm way too defensive to possibly be innocent, or I obviously wouldn't find it to be such a big deal if it wasn't true, and the entire fact that I'm distressing so much that I can't think straight isn't even acknowledged.

Which leads to the most recent additions to my reputation: I want to fuck Nicole Wagner and I'm unbalanced and probably dangerous! When those two shit bombs hit the fan, I started this blog. Do I even need to explain those two points? Is there a point in even trying? Of course not, because if I do, then I'm being too defensive about it and am trying to change the fact that I'm a pervert and likely to hurt someone. This, of course, ignores what is a goddamn game that me and my friends sometimes play, and what was probably third- or fourth-hand information.

So back in high school when I was horribly desperate for a girlfriend, I made some stupid decisions, asked out damn near anything that moved, and was basically a pathetic mess. Then lo and behold, the summer of my Senior year! A wonderful, beautiful girl came into my life, and we started dating. The first half of my Senior year was absolutely fantastic. And then we broke up. I had a nice miserable little two months (which started off with the spectacular Florida trip) before we got back together and everything seemed to fall into place once more. Then the bitch dumped me less than two weeks after school had gotten out.

So yeah, I freaked out. Bad. Total Heroic BSOD. It really didn't help that it was the beginning of the summer and I had almost literally nothing to focus on to distract myself. The next month was a blur, and then I started to work at Pizza Shoppe after the wonderful realization that I had no money, no scholarships, nothing. If I was even going to go to TCC, I would have to pay tuition, which I sure as hell couldn't afford. I don't even want to go into what happened between Bailee and I, and whatever the hell happened with Ali can best be described as "She told me that Megan was telling everyone about us, I did what I thought was the best course of action, we broke up, and now everyone thinks I'm the bad kind of crazy, as if there was really a good kind." Then when I wanted to get out of the house to dodge Brook and all his theater friends, one fucking thing I said gets taken out of context, blows up beyond what I thought a single comment could be, and I'm blacklisted as I don't even fucking know, because no one talks to me.

Why won't anyone talk to me? That's what I want to know. To any asshole who thinks "Because you're crazy and write shit like this," I wouldn't be writing this if I were talking to people regularly. On a normal day where I don't leave my house normally, I will not talk to a single person outside my family. I likely wouldn't eat if it weren't for my parents calling me down for dinner. Only at my dad's insistence is it that I leave my room probably 80% of the time outside of work. What kind of sad fucking life is that?

Why the fuck won't any of you talk to me?

Best word ever.

Remember how in my very first post I said that I wasn't going to use really profane language unless I was in a really bad mood? Well, I'm making an exception here, because this might be the best word ever.

I was reading (What else?) an article on Cracked.com about 7 items that are inexplicably legal, and it got to thermite. Thermite, for those of you who are uninformed, reaches a temperature of nearly 2500 degrees Fahrenheit. For the record that's ''close to half the temperature of the chucklefucking sun." See that underlined word? Yeah. Best word ever.