A Waste of Time.

On pretending I'm OK.


First of all, let me start with my horrible yesterday. Yesyes, it could have been worse, but it did make me feel like walking of the top of a building so it's counted.


Started off alright; bumped into a jerk and ignored him. Got to class and daydreamed about Jewish weddings. And then we ran into trouble. In the form of a block-headed jerk. Who I must congratulate for being able to switch my mood right round to complete depression and at one point total fury. I started dialling my helpline - and she got me to calm down a little bit. Although I still wanted to punch someone to the ground.


Anyway. Had a really pathetic lunch. Didn't get to see my Seducing Eyes long enough (who looked so good today.) Fucked up some chemical waste and made a mess of myself. Lost my lab goggles for the second time. And walked halfway home in the rain.


Now here's the clincher. Here's me reenacting the saddest part of any self-reflective movie out there that never made it to box office. Imagine a relatively overweight girl, saddled down with two heavy bags strapped across her. She stands alone holding her measly umbrella in the rain, while she's drenched by the wet breeze. She's standing so far away from the happiness, the laughter, the people. And she's cold. Hungry. Tired. Upset. Lonely.


Yes. I am not making this up. I actually hoped it was all a dream.

So in this mood of intense self-denial and complete hatred towards anything living, I start to think. Why. Why does he have to be so goddamn emotionless? Why does he have to think everything is a joke? Why am I making myself mine for an aorta of feeling deep down in the Dreaded Pits of Disaster?

Why do I fucking bother?

At the end of it, he's just going to laugh at me. And then ask people what's wrong when I put on a sour face. And make me want to choke him.

But I think it was just the stress of the entire day resting on my shoulders. I was upset about a whole lot of things, and through this all She has to move away from her phone line and arrive home just as mine becomes out of bounds. That would have made all of you hate it a little bit, huh?

I didn't mean to get so angry at him. He doesn't deserve my superfluous emotions that present themselves erratically. He doesn't deserve to hear my incessant whining about my hang-ups. He doesn't deserve to want to pity me. And heck, he doesn't deserve me.

He deserves someone better than me.

I mean - doesn't everyone?

Who would want to involve themselves with someone so fake? So incredibly annoying. With such a hypocritical mind. And bad feelings about wrong things. And a mental case with an attention disorder. A person that craves for compliments and never receives them without asking for them first. Someone without a functioning memory. A person without common public decorum. Someone who prefers to shout than talk. Who bitches about the people she cares about the most.

A two-faced individual without discipline or priorities. An obsessive bitch who wants people to jump when she says so. Who eats more than she needs too. A person who wants to be different and yet have people say she looks like everyone else. A person with an inner lonliness so deep - it has seen the centre of the earth. Who has her mind fucked up by worthless bastards. Who has only ever once been called good-looking (or in fact, anything along those lines), by someone who was anything but.

And quite simply, a horrible person.

So yes. What is a waste of time? I am a waste of time. Yours, mine and generally anyone in the world. An extreme bout of depression and impressively low self-esteem? Not at all.

Just facing the reality of it, unlike all of you choosing not to.

Cheers.

*PS - Dear Readers, please leave comments in my Cbox. If you've been keeping yourself updated, I need to know too. Thanks.