Apollymi's Curse.

Is more real than you think.

I am supposed to be updating the Boys Club right now with more stereotypes I had somehow forgotten. But I'm really not in the mood because I have something more cerebral to discuss (oh dear, what's more cerebral than separating boys into a million categories.)

So here's the thing. To those who have no idea what Apollymi's curse is :

WHY DON'T YOU KNOW WHAT APOLLYMI'S CURSE IS?

Apollymi's curse : The curse of the Great Destroyer all-powerful all-mighty Apollymi on a woman called Tory (whose full name is not known at present) who is destined to love The Great Destroyer's son, the Final Fate of The World a.k.a Acheron. The curse involves Tory being a complete guy repellant, except when it comes to Acheron.

See also guy repellant, embarassment to the female race, pathetic, boys run away from you while you're talking, and Me.

A little less-than-entertaining excerpt from my personal dictionary. Seriously : Oxford who?

So anyway. If you haven't figured it out by now, I think I have Apollymi's curse. Destined to attract stinky boys and repel the ones who could actually do me good. So she makes me look like an idiot everytime I try and talk to someone cute. And she makes me sound like a whale sounding a mating call everytime I speak. She also makes me a total airhead with nothing substantial to say. She makes me chubby so she can put tight clothes on me and listen to people gossip. She makes me sound like a bimbo on crack everytime I try to make a joke. And she makes me destined to be 'just friends' with guys I can actually see myself with.

Apollymi is a mean cow.

All this hate has got to come from somewhere. I'm sorry readers, I am just on this journey (read path of self-mutilation) of discovering what is so wrong with me. People say it's quite shocking that I have never had anyone interested in me, and it is quite shocking. I've always believed that everyone has a different time to shine, but as time passes on that idea is slipping away from me faster than I can have anything to grab onto.

If only there was some way to know. Then I can avoid that same mistake I make every single time I try to get involved with somebody. And maybe I won't fuck it up so bad.

But you can never tell. If that was the case, everything about you would be wrong. That's why people should believe me when I say :

'There is everything wrong with me. What's up with you trying to help me?'

Day after day, post after post, I come back to the same topic about why I should hate myself and you should too. And I feel so terrible that I have to keep upsetting my readers with this topic when they could easily skip this blog and move on with their wonderful lives. But lord knows why they read shit like this.

Let's break this down.

Problem : I hate myself. And that some other people hate myself too.

Definite Cause : There is something/multiple things wrong with me.

Cause of Cause : I have dangerously low self-esteem.

Cause of Cause of Cause : I hate myself. And that some other people hate myself too.

OK. So now that we've done that, we just have to figure a way to enter this Circle of Mental Anguish and destroy it.

How?

Plan of Action : Say 'I am a wonderful person' a million times.

Report : Said 'Why are you kidding yourself loser' a million and one times.

New Plan of Action : Ask people why they bother to talk to me.

Report : Response was good. But they all came to the same answer and the void in me grew ever deeper.

Latest Plan of Action : Blog about your issues until your eyes pop out and have your friends cheer because they never have to read your horrible posts again.

Report : Working. Eyes to pop out soon.

I don't even know why I'm fussing. I had a really good day today. Got to look a little bit fabulous with free mascara, felt happy in what I wore, and had good pizza. And yet I have to come up with something depressing because my brain only seems to work when I'm worrying.

Ungrateful douchebag becomes me.

Phew. Depressing oneself is mentally exhausting.

Don't try this at home kids.

Cheers.