Another Month, Another Guy

If you look at my “Good Things in 2014″ list, you’ll see for July 6th, I put “talked to Sunny for nearly three hours”. Who’s Sunny?

As the title might imply, he’s yet another man I may have a relationship with. And again, another female nickname. It just seems like a good way to respect privacy. Plus, “Sunny” is fitting for him. He has been through a lot of hardships, but unlike me, he’s surprisingly optimistic about life. When we were talking over Skype in the early hours, he sounded nothing short of cheerful.

Sunny is the reason I made this post some time ago, but I’ve since let it go and forgiven him. One thing that has left me astounded, however, is that he claims to have had about ten relationships in four years (although no sexual ones). I’d like to think he’s making that up for whatever reason, but then again, my first relationship lasted a month, so who am I to doubt him?

What I really liked about our conversation is he asked about my asexuality. I had to explain more than once, but he did listen and eventually understand. And that was it. It didn’t turn into a full-blown conversation about sex. In fact, he was reluctant to even ask me about it because he didn’t want to make me uncomfortable and we weren’t together yet. But that topic last about two minutes before we moved on to something else.”

Sunny has been infatuated with me since we met, whereas I didn’t have any feelings for him beyond platonic. Now, that may be changing. I was the one who asked for video chat, something I never do, and the teaser was letting him see me in a small pair of pajama shorts I had on. It was a joke, but I would not have said that to anyone else. Really, it was just nice to converse and not be asked for pictures, or to show myself nearly nude, or be flirted with. Speaking of which, he has never tried to flirt to with me. He’s told me he likes me and wants to hold me, but nothing flirtatious. I dislike flirting, so I hugely appreciate that.

I do not want to get my hopes up, but I really do hope things go well with Sunny and, if not life, I am with him for a long time.

I hate humanity, part 3

Happy Independence Day, everybody. Yay.

Of all days to find more proof the human race sucks, this day. If anyone ever asks me why I’d never bring kids into the world even if I wanted to, this is the answer.

I discovered this on my Tumblr dashboard today. Long story short, the author of this post went to a comedy club with some friends. One of the comedian made jokes about rape and sexual assault and when she rightfully called him out on it, he not only called her and friends names, but threatened them and got the whole audience in on it. She complained to the manager, but he just excused it, saying she shouldn’t come to a comedy club if she can’t take a joke. Yet I bet if any of these people had a loved one who was raped, it wouldn’t be so funny. Or maybe they’re the type of people who would blame that loved one for it.

Not only should that club be shut down, but that comedian should be arrested and charged for his attacks and threats, and the manager should be arrested and charged well for allowing and enabling it.

I. Hate. People.

Need For Comfort?

I will tell you a secret. Don’t tell anyone. Want to hear? Come closer. Shhh.

I like to write stories.

GASP!

They’re not serious or professional stories. Some of them are created with my sims game. But one thing that is common for many of them is the characters, whether I made them up or they’re from another series, tend to be given tragedies.

For example, some time ago, I started a new legacy in my game. However, after enjoying another challenge, I changed the character from namelessly starting alone to having left her home with her little sister due to sexual abuse and now having to support herself and sister while homeless.

All of these types of stories end happily, but I wonder why I write this way. Some of my characters’ pasts, such as the one I described above, are truly horrid. In real life, they’d require years of therapy, possibly a lifetime, whereas in my stories, they require little more than having support from close friends and a shoulder to cry on periodically.

I’m not sure where this comes from, but I feel like part of the reason is I myself don’t have anybody I can count on in the way I allow my characters. I don’t have someone who understands my mind and thoughts. I don’t have someone I can be certain to receive support from, whether I’m hurting or I’m struggling to decide something. And I wish I did.

Rarely are these stories intentionally written this away. They are not my first idea, which is why I further believe they’re basically a manifestation of my desire for comfort and support, and lacking it.

I do the same with actual people. When I imagine myself telling someone about a problem I have, I typically imagine them understanding or being supportive to some extent, despite knowing in actuality, they’d be anything but. I believe people tend to subconsciously fantasize positively, whether or not they know ahead of time what the real outcome will be.

Even a minor character in a story I write can have a depressing history, as in one of my stories for an original character I made based on my favorite series. The minor character talks the main one out of suicide by telling about how she overcame her past and the sole reason she has that past is to serve as tool to prevent the protagonist from dying. The minor character is completely random. She will likely never appear in any future story, yet I gave her a huge, tragic history for the sole purpose of being able to relate to someone else.

I am not sure if this healthy or not. Obviously, it’s much better than pushing myself toward unsupportive people and forming false attachment, but it also makes me think my mind is ill, as this doesn’t seem normal.

I hate humanity, part 2

On Tumblr, this post of safety tips came across my blog. Most of the tips are about avoiding getting murdered in a car. And it makes me think, “Why have a car in the first place?”

Seriously. If I have to be afraid of being killed because I sit idle in my car for more than a second, why even own one in the first place?

The post even lists stairwells as being fatal places. Great, so I’ve got to worry about being mugged and murdered just because I want to use my legs a little more. That’s just freakin’ lovely.

I’m sorry, but if anything, this list is a good damn reason to commit suicide. Why would anyone want to live in such an incredibly dangerous world? Why would anyone want to bring more people into this indescribably horrific world? And no, the wonders of the world and the little things do not make up for this. The beauty of a daisy will not revive a murdered person.

I don’t care how awful I may be for saying this, but the human race as a whole needs to die. This post basically means merely being alive is dangerous, and if one’s life is in constant danger just from living it, why even have it? The human race is the worst species in existence.

How Not To Handle Disagreements

Yesterday, May 28th, was supposed to be a day for people to share their abortion stories on Twitter under the #WomensHealth tag. Notice I said supposed. That’s because it didn’t turn out that way. Instead, pro-lifers took the event for themselves and made it theirs, so instead of sharing experiences, it was full of the typical arguments you hear from that side. Naturally, anyone who supported abortion was attacked. To sum it up for myself, I was called a murderer several times (stopped counting after twenty), spammed with bloody and gory pictures, told I was going to Hell, and told I have no common sense because I am an atheist. Two people also went on to make fun of my sexual orientation (that is the third time; what is it with the orientation hate when it comes to debating abortion?)

(To anyone who may want to participate in such events in the future, go ahead, but I’m warning you. It becomes the equivalent of a bar brawl. If abortion was debated out in the streets, the whole country would literally split apart, state by state. I’m sincerely surprised it’s still intact as it is.)

One person I got into a verbal struggle took to not only calling me names, but making assumptions about me. A lot of assumptions. I don’t want to go dig it up, as I’m avoiding Twitter for a while because I don’t need the heat, but after going back and forth for a while, she came to the conclusion I am:

  • Materialistic
  • Selfish (unsurprisingly)
  • An idiot
  • Unfinished with school. In fact, she came to the belief I is didn’t complete elementary school.
  • Retarded. No, she didn’t directly say this, but she used every word she could to get around it.

Obviously, since we were on opposite sides, we weren’t going to agree, but what’s the point in saying things like what’s on that list? You’re not making a point. You’ve just resorted to insulting someone. That does not help your case at all.

And yes, I did attempt to end it, but even after I stopped responding for a while, she went on. On top of that, some other people joined in with this, although they cheered her on in insulting me rather than doing it directly themselves. Eventually, I got tired and went to sleep for the night. What happened when I woke up seven hours later? My notifications were blown up while I slept! I didn’t bother to read all of them, so I don’t know if they’re from the same people or different ones, but I was honestly stunned. These people were so mad, they blew up my inbox for seven hours?

You’d think I’d be mad, but I wasn’t. Even I’m a little shocked by my own reaction. All those insults would normally infuriate me, but if anything, they bored me. I was angry they wouldn’t stop bothering, but the insults really didn’t upset me as much. My only retort to this woman was that she’s presumptuous, which she is to make all of those assumptions about me because I refused to agree with her. At one point, it wasn’t even about abortion anymore. It was just about her trying to show me up and having a fit because I wouldn’t change my stance.

The more I think about this, the more I wonder if those things have to do with her. No, I am not trying to say she is stupid or such, but it seems like when people jump to conclusions like that about someone else, it has more to do with themselves than the other person. This woman knew nothing about me besides my name and face. She probably wouldn’t be able to pick me out from a group if she saw me in real life. Yet, she comes to these conclusions because I won’t take her side.

I like debating. I don’t like when it gets overheated and more explosive than TNT boxes in Crash Bash, but I admit the passion is sometimes admirable. However, this wasn’t even that. This is simply hurling a torrent of insults at someone for disagreeing with you. To put it another way, this is basically the equivalent of a child throwing a tantrum for being told they couldn’t have a piece of candy at the store. There’s no point to this. It adds nothing.

Just to make sure I am clear, I think debate and discussion is fantastic. That’s why I choose to be apart of it if the subject is something I feel strongly about. I understand people will get angry and furious. There are strong thoughts and feelings flying about. That’s to be expected. Really, I wouldn’t expect anything less. But resorting to a torrent of insults is unnecessary. As I said, it’s pointless and adds nothing meaningful. If anything, it just shows you cannot control yourself. And no, I don’t mean cursing. Cursing on its own isn’t a problem. Throw your curses at somebody, however, and that’s a problem.

Bad Day, Bad Week

This week has not been a good one. Yesterday, I lost a friend and today, I lost my boyfriend. Reason? He’s going to become very busy over the summer. In spite of me making it clear I have no problem, he feels it’s wrong to have me waiting (because, apparently, waiting is torture).

I wish I had never entered the dating/relationship world. It’s been nothing but heartbreak. I didn’t expect to find the “right” person right away or I expected things to be perfect, but I cannot deal with having my heart broken over and over again. I’d rather stay alone.

The only bright side to this is I still have my virginity. I’d prefer to still have my first kiss too, but I guess it’s no big deal. I’ve kissed my mom and sister on the lips, so it’s not like it was the very first time my lips have touched someone else’s.

I miss Emmi. Yes, after everything I just said, I still miss Emmi and I have no chance to get him back. He may be a borderline sex maniac, but if that meant I didn’t have to worry about a breakup, I would’ve given it to him from the start. In a way, I still want him to have my virginity. Of course, he could’ve easily taken it and gotten rid of me, so I’m fantasizing here, but sex was the only thing I had to worry about with Emmi. Maybe that’s why he loves it so much.

At least, I probably set the record for shortest relationship.

Name Change

No, not the blog. Actually, maybe the blog. But I mean my actual name. I need to change my entire actual name. I don’t want to get into why, but I’ll leave it at I don’t feel safe anymore. Something happened and I feel like I need to change every bit of my personal information possible. My full name, my phone number, even my nickname, Kaye!

I have no idea what I’m going to change my name to or how to even go about it legally. More importantly, I need to find out how I can get every record of my what my name is now destroyed. Phone records, school ones, and even my birth records!

I’ve heard changing your name is expensive, but I don’t even feel comfortable getting a job until I can have it legally changed. I admit I’m a little sad that my blog’s title and URL won’t rhyme anymore, but that’s a very tiny price to pay. For the time being, I will leave it as is, but as soon as I come up with another name and nickname, I will change it. In the meantime, I will find as much info as I can about legally changing my name and destroying records. I wish I could change my birthdate too, but that’s impossible.