Political Dating

In politics, candidates run campaigns and make tons of speeches and promises to look as good as possible regardless of whether they can be keep their word or not. The only goal is to get people’s approval and vote. After that, whatever happens happens and reality can never live up to the promises. As long as they are appealing at first, that’s all that matters. Dating is just like that. Sales is like that too. Heck, all of life is like that and I hate that.

 

In dating, guys will do everything in their power to make themselves as appealing as possible to girls. They have to, because everyone else is doing it. Everyone does it because it works. Without knowing anyone in depth, why wouldn’t a girl choose a guy who seems better on the surface? Who knows what’s under the surface. Some people can have a shitty surface and shitty insides. With a pretty surface, there’s at least that.

 

This is why life fails me… or why I fail at life, however you want to put it. I have no interest in putting up a show. I’m not going to wow anyone on a first date. I’m great in the long run but that doesn’t matter because I don’t ever get to start. I’m reliable, nice, and good at many things. I’ll be fun and funny eventually, just not at first. I’m helpful in many way. I’ll drive you to the airport with no complaints. I’ll drive your relatives to the airport. I’ll do anything. All you have to do is ask but no one’s asking.

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Fake Offence

I hate bitchy girls who think they’re better than me just because they pretend to be offended by stuff. You’re not fooling anyone. We all know that you’re only pretending to be offended. Here’s a good test. Are you more offended that I laugh at the funny sounds a retarded person makes, or are you more offended that I call you an ugly fat whore. There should be no comparison. Your hypothetical ugly face is nothing compared to the unfortunate life of a retard. That’s right, you vain faker.

How can you say that? You're talking about apples and oranges.

How can you say that? You’re talking about apples and oranges.

If that’s apples and oranges, which do you think is the apple and which is the orange? I think the retard should be the apple. Why? For the sake of delivering this next joke:

If you really are such a good person, why not do this to an "apple" to show it your appreciation.

If you really are such a good person, why not do this to an “apple” to show it your appreciation.

That’s about all I have to say on this topic. Why so little? Because I, too, was only faking how much those hypothetical bitches offend me.

I'm not a faker. See how I'm not even feigning interest in this stupid blog?

I’m not a faker. See how I’m not even feigning interest in this stupid blog?

The Depth of Depression

There are many levels of depression. For a lot of my life, depression had lingered around, tampering with my motivation and making it harder to do things. But that’s all it used to do, make things harder. In the past few days, it has become debilitating. That is a whole different level. It’s a miracle that I can even write this blog in my current state. As of now, I am completely misunderstood and if I were to end my life, people would think that it was a stupid and impulsive thing to do. Stupid? Maybe. Some people think that suicide is always stupid. They’re entitled to their opinions. But impulsive? No. But it’s hard to justify that given I’m only 22 and haven’t lived my life at all yet.

I force myself to treat this blog as my last attempt to get people to understand me. Even as I write this, I realize its futility and perhaps in just a couple of days, I will lose the motivation to continue writing. Every time I re-read one of my sentences, I recognize how stupid it sounds and my motivation drops. I mean, c’mon, getting people to understand me? Who gives a shit? I can’t believe I even wrote that. Why am I lying to myself? I’ve said it before, and I’ll say it again. I’m doing this for money and recognition. Even when I don’t give a shit about life, I’m still so vain as to pursue the impossible dream of making a name for myself.

I envy the depressed people who can’t find a reason to get out of bed. Being riddled with insomnia is another reason why I’m doing this. I can’t even lay in bed like a corpse. I get up, check my email and facebook and find zero messages. Look for someone who I can complain about my shitty life to. Find no one. Go to bed. Can’t sleep. And repeat this hellish cycle again.

When I listened to Marc Maron’s WTF podcast episode 190, the interview with Todd Hanson, it really opened my eyes. I will provide the link again here: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=_mnOgjJwO14

Todd Hanson had been experiencing his depression for 20 or so years before he decided he should just end his life. I’ve only been depressed for 6 years or so and I still have a bit of desire to live. But if I extrapolate the bleakness of life to 20 more years, I can completely understand why Todd decided that it’s better off for him to end his life.

Then Todd talks about how he tried to end his life. I started becoming more interested and used his experience as a simulation for what could happen if I go down the same path. Somehow he survives but he ended up being in the hospital for 30 days. During that time, he was really touched by all the people who visited him. Even when they failed to cheer him up, they kept showing up to be there for him. There was one woman in particular who showed up practically everyday. Then I started thinking about what would’ve happened if I were in the hospital recovering from a failed suicide attempt. I wouldn’t have anyone visiting me. Even if there were people who are there for me during that time, it’s only a temporary thing. Once I get out of the hospital, everything will be back to normal and I’ll be just as alone as I was before. In fact, that happened to Todd too to some degree. I’m amazed that he was able to survive the tough times after that. To know that people will show up and pretend to be there for me, but they can’t spare time for me when I need them most on lonely nights, that would kill me. Actually, I would be the one killing myself, but that would be the reason for it.

I had these feelings when I first listened to the podcast a few months ago. Before writing this entry, I listened to it again and the feelings are even stronger now. Back to the question of why I’m writing this suicide blog… it’s a very petty reason. I don’t want people to look down on me when I end my life. I want them to know it’s their fault. Fuck everyone who wasn’t there for me when I was alive. I’m not saying I deserve help just cause I’m crying for help like a baby with this blog. But if you read this and do nothing about it, when I die, don’t go spewing nonsense saying you don’t understand why I would do something like this. You never gave a shit when I was alive, so don’t pretend to give a shit after I die.