I’m Done With Life

This is pretty pointless because I can’t be bothered to write anything interesting when I’m feeling like total shit but I’m writing anyway because I don’t know what else to do. Nobody else gives a shit. If you’re reading this and you care but not that much because I’m just a random dude on the internet, just know that that’s more care than anyone else is giving me.

 

I just got home after three nights at my girlfriend’s university resident and I’m feeling shittier than ever. I’ve been feel shitty lately but I didn’t blog about it. Shit happened and I may write about it but it seems more effort than it’s worth and it wouldn’t matter anyway once I’m gone. For a long time, I’m just passively suicidal but I don’t know how passive it’s staying. I don’t have any plans to do anything yet but it definitely feels horrible enough that I just want it to end. I don’t know why I give a shit about what people would think of me if I killed myself. I shouldn’t care because it won’t affect me at all once I’m gone.

 

I haven’t blogged about having a girlfriend yet and I have my reasons for that. There were no fights or anything during this weekend, but that’s only because I’m amazing at avoiding conflict and I’m also such a good person in all situations but it’s a very tiring job and apparently so unrewarding that it makes me want to die. During my previous depressed years, I always thought that having a girlfriend is the last thing I want to try before deciding life isn’t worth living. Maybe it’s my bad luck that my first and only girlfriend is not a good one.

 

She’s pretty oblivious to all this shit but I think I might send her a link to this blog entry. I’ve been completely uncheap with her and have been making her feel great in all ways while I’m with her so of course there’s a part of me she really likes. But she doesn’t really care about me at all and I don’t know if I can cope with it anymore. We have practically no common interests. It’s almost amazing how little we have in common. She doesn’t enjoy the shit I have to say and doesn’t enjoy my sense of humor. She likes games but doesn’t give a shit about my game developing career and doesn’t like any of the games I like. She doesn’t read this blog. There’s simply nothing. I thought at least I might stay for the sex and hope the other things might get better over time. But nope, those aren’t getting better over time and the sex isn’t worth it. I don’t know if it’s my depression or what, but sex is fairly unenjoyable for me. I’m still constantly horny and always ready to do stuff, but it hasn’t been good. Maybe it’s because I’m not good at it yet but without the opportunity to practise, I can’t get better. Condoms also make the whole thing pretty pointless because I don’t feel anything. Over the past 3 nights, we were sexually active and yet I still had to jerk myself off each night. It’s depressing. I offer for her to help me ejaculate each time but she chooses not to and I’m not going to force her. I’m leaving out a lot of details but the stats are true and I feel shitty about it and no one is doing anything about it.

 

Today, the last day i was there, I made it abundantly clear that I was unhappy. She observed that I looked “lifeless” and when asked if I was okay, my answer (yes) was “unconvincing”. I’ve briefed her on my depression but she barely knows anything because we can never carry a long conversation. She tells me to just not think shitty thoughts and to just be happier. She claims it’s possible because she’s done it too. That’s not justified reasoning. I’ve done it too for years and years since I’ve always been depressed and I’m still alive as of this moment. But it gets worse and worse each time and I know depression more than most people, especially her. She tells me to try to make new friends but that’s stupid. My current friends are making me unhappy. If I am to replace them with new and better friends, then I won’t need anything to do with the old batch of which she’s a part of. My visit ended with me saying that I don’t want to go home and her telling me that “there’s nothing for [me] here.” I rebuttled by saying there’s nothing for me anywhere. It’s as if she wasn’t even trying to make me feel better and just wanted to get rid of me.

 

There’s a lot more but I’m not going to write everything because I’m not here to complain about my girlfriend. I’m complaining about all of life. I don’t know what to do anymore. I’m unwanted everywhere. If it didn’t hurt so bad, I would just keep on wasting time and living without doing anything. But it’s hurting so much now. My hurt feelings are manifesting as physical pain. It’s happened before but those were only for a night or two. This one isn’t going away and it has no reason to go away. It’s absolutely not due to a lack of trying on my part. I know what can make me feel better. I just want people to care and appreciate me. When I’m a guest, I cook, I clean, I wash dishes, and I offer to help out in all other possible ways but my help isn’t wanted. I don’t know if they’re just hesitant to receive help from someone they barely know or if the help is really unwanted. Either way, I’m left feeling like shit. There are 3 households that I’ve been a guest of so I’ve definitely gave it a shot. Maybe life just isn’t for me. Maybe I’m not as awesome and helpful as a guest as I thought I was being. Maybe I’m just a shitty person to be around. It might be my fault that my life is so crappy or everyone else’s fault. But it doesn’t really matter because no matter what, my life is still crappy and nobody wants me around, especially me.

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Lower Than The Lowest Lows

The title’s pretty stupid. It doesn’t really make sense. I seem to have lost my ability and interest to write anything decent. I’m constantly reaching new lows in life. I’m definitely lower than I’ve ever been before and sadly, it’s probably still going to keep getting lower. The first low point I’ve ever reached was when I tried out online dating. Online dating doesn’t have nearly as much stigma as it used to, but the moment I decided to try it was still a depressing one. I was admitting that I couldn’t find a girl in real life. The moment a person decides to try online dating doesn’t need to be a depressing one, but it is often depressing and it was depressing for me. Failing at online dating makes it even worse.

The next low point was when I decided to try to find a girlfriend off craigslist. Finding a hooker would be fine, that’s just business. But girlfriend? That’s getting a little desperate. Failing at that makes things worse as well. Over the past couple years, I repeatedly tried it over and over again even though I rarely even get a response, let alone someone who’s interested. There are a lot of spam bots out there pretending that they’re girls worried about their safety and telling you to go to a certain site to pay $1 for a background check so that they know you’re safe. Luckily, I haven’t fallen for those. That definitely would’ve been a new low. But I did spend more time replying to those pre-written bot emails than I did with real girls – still a new low.

Then I went through several years of getting progressively more depressed, losing interest in movies, games, food, life. Naturally, it doesn’t take long to lose motivation to work when nothing’s enjoyable anymore. I can’t pinpoint specific events to these, but new lows were definitely being made. Finally, my latest new low is a sequel to the hooker story I wrote about in the last post. Seeing a hooker isn’t lowly. Developing feelings for a hooker is pretty bad. Developing feelings for a fat ugly hooker? Well that’s just retarded. That’s where I’m at…

After writing the last post, I decided to email the hooker and I went to see her that night. I just wanted some boob play and cuddling and someone to talk to. Okay, that sounds really lame. It was. It is. Let me redeem myself a little. I’m not desperate to talk to just anyone. I want someone to talk to regularly and frequently. Why I thought a hooker could fill that void was just plain stupid. There’s no redeeming that part. When I finally saw her, she was fat. I thought she was gonna be maybe a little overweight but nope, she was fat. I’m not attracted to fat. I’m not being super mean here and trying to make girls worry about their bodies. This girl clearly didn’t worry about it at all. Skinny isn’t attractive either. Lazy isn’t attractive as well. If a girl looks like she’s active, then she’ll look great. When I’m not ridden by depression, I’m a very active person with endless amounts of energy. I could be sporting and exercising all day and I’ll still have energy to do more that night and the next day and the next day. Naturally, I would be attracted to active people too. I’m not picky at all. Easily over 70% of girls are attractive to me. As long as you don’t like look you’ll die from walking up a flight of stairs, you look great. If you look like a bean bag chair, you probably don’t look great.

Anyway, I chatted with the hooker and I tried to befriend her. I learned all about her current situation and we decided we’d meet again as friends. I couldn’t sleep that night. I’m not really sure why, but then I eventually thought of a scenario where I could invite her to live in my house so she can sort out her life. Yes, it sounds really stupid when written. It’s not as stupid if you know the exact details I have planned, but it’s still pretty stupid. If she were a hot attractive girl, my stupidity would be understandable at least. But now it’s just pure stupidity with no excuse.

Before I make the final stupid decision, I would need to talk to her thoroughly and ask her a lot of questions to find any reason not to do it. It didn’t take me long at all to catch her not living up to my fantasy but it was still irrefutably stupid that I considered it so seriously. At least I dodged that bullet I guess. I have no idea what stupid shit I’ll do next. If it doesn’t cost me my life, I’ll probably be blogging about it. I might record a podcast tomorrow with more details on the hooker story.

Shit Stories Part IX: Shit Adjacent and Tangent Stories

Foreword: In this entry, I didn’t transition between my thoughts very well. All these thoughts are interesting, tangental, and related so I want to keep them all together. But at the same time, I don’t want to clog it up with more sentences just for the sake of transitioning between thoughts without adding any additional content. …Okay, that was a lie, I’m just too lazy to put in the time to turn this shit story into a masterfully written shit story. Plus, I didn’t get any sleep and wrote about shit all night while having chocolate milk diarrhea so give me a break, alright?

Am I dozing off or just staring at my boobs? Why not both? Oh shit, I stole Ted's line.

Am I dozing off or just staring at my boobs? Why not both? Oh shit, I stole Ted’s line.

Some of you might wonder what the heck “shit adjacent” even means. I don’t mean it literally because the story doesn’t involve me standing next to a piece of shit or anything. In fact, there’s no actual shit in the story. It’s like when you’re taking a shit and you’re mentally prepared for shit to appear but you can’t push anything out. That is the analogy I have chosen. I chose a shitting analogy to describe my shit story. Actually, it’s not even an analogy because that’s basically the whole story, told in the guise of an analogy.

I am also shit adjacent.

I am also shit adjacent.

As a guy, I follow the convention that I should pee standing up. So when I falsely think that I need to shit and I’m s(h)itting but nothing comes out, I have to try really hard to squeeze some shit out and if nothing comes out in the end, I feel a bit of shame for having peed sitting down. That is some fucked up retarded emotions. I know that intellectually but it doesn’t stop me from feeling this way. Feelings are so gay. And by gay, I mean retarded. Which one is more offensive? “Why not write both?” – me. (…Everything I write is in my word so I wonder why I bothered quoting myself…)

And I'm ashamed of peeing while standing. Wait. Why am I taking a picture of this?

And I’m ashamed of peeing while standing. Wait. Why am I taking a picture of this?

That last section is interesting to me. I’m obviously aware that I am potentially offending a lot of people but I wrote it anyway. Why? Because it’s funny to me. I only wrote it because I found it funny and I chose not to censor my comedy. But what makes it so funny? It’s funny because of how easily I can offend so many groups of people. If people didn’t get offended by this stuff, it wouldn’t have been funny to me and I wouldn’t have written it, thus, not having created anything for them to be offended by. Ironically, it’s because they DO get offended that there’s more of this stuff to offend them.

Let me put on my "nerd" glasses and smile and pretend I understood what you just read.

Let me put on my “nerd” glasses and smile and pretend I understood what you just read.

Girls living with guys often complain about them not putting the seat back down. I wonder why I never hear complaints about guys not lifting the seats up at all and peeing all over the seat. There’s no way this never happened. I guess people just generally don’t talk about shit and piss as casually as I do. Where’s our thanks for not peeing all over the seat? Even if we end up peeing all over the floor, at least you’re not sitting in our urine. I also never hear guys complaining about girls always leaving the seat down. Mathematically speaking, the guy would’ve lifted the seat up as many times as the girl had to put the seat down. She may complain about having accidentally sat in the bowl with no seat, maybe even touching some CLEAN toilet water, but that’s not the same as peeing on the seat (because our urethra is set to shower setting) and having to clean up the urine. You also never hear about a guy who sat in the bowl without the seat. It would seem that guys are conditioned to always check the seat status with every toilet visit where girls have a problem of assuming it’s down.

Stop complaining about the seat you guys. Do you want to pee in snow instead?

Stop complaining about the seat you guys. Do you want to pee in snow instead?

So many hypothetical girlfriends have left me for being thoughtless and counter nagging them. It’s thoughts like these that keep me in the single and virgin statuses. To continue counter nagging my hypothetical girlfriend, I’m actually not thoughtless at all as evidenced by the amount of thought put into this blog.

 I'm one of those hypothetical girlfriends. I'm so hypothetical that I don't even have a head.


I’m one of those hypothetical girlfriends. I’m so hypothetical that I don’t even have a head.