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?
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