No More College

I never wanted to go to college and only did so out of pressure. Now, I really don’t have to go.

Long story short, I have a bill of over $3,500 to pay and I can’t register for any classes until it’s entirely paid off. I’m not sure how I’ll manage that, but at least I no longer have anything to worry about. That’s less debt than most and I can pay it.

Now, I really need to find a job. Now more than ever. I’m not sure how, but I’ll think of something. Right now, I’m planning to sell some of my old games for a little extra cash. I wish I could find out how to work from home, but I haven’t a clue as to how to go about that.

In the meantime, I’m going to try to not to get down on myself. The only reason I’m even feeling this way is due to pressure from family. I’m genuinely happy. I have lots of free time, so why be sad?

Look Who’s Back

Emmi. Yes, that Emmi.

I anonymously wished him a happy birthday some days ago and yesterday, I asked him how his birthday was. Turns out I wasn’t as anonymous as I thought because although I’d cleared the profile entirely (and I did this before I wished him happy birthday, not yesterday), he knew it was me. More surprising, he asked for my Skype. He’d said he longer wanted to talk to me, but shockingly, he never removed me. His Skype reset itself and, apparently, the whole account was deleted.

He’s well, he’s been having a good time, and he’s been getting sex, which I’m very glad to hear. We talked for about three hours last night. He actually remembered how late I tend to go to bed. He’s got better memory than Sunny.

Speaking of Sunny, he is getting on my last nerve with his ego and arrogance. I do enjoy talking to him, but his smugness is getting in the way. He has a lot of things to be proud of and that’s wonderful, but his ego is more fragile than a flower petal. He got offended because I called him clueless, insisting I insulted him in the worst way possible because of his IQ. IQ doesn’t mean everything, and in Sunny’s case, his social skills outside of his work are nearly deplorable.

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.