AUTHOR.CALHO: If I didn't write it, I would be hitch hiking cross country to Maine and then Alaska in that order. While taking frequent breaks to spread leaflets. And sit in diners. And write on things because I wasn't at a computer. I may still do that in a few years. Writing this also helps me forget about and better understand the limitations of being human, and keeps me busy enough to allow me no free time to burn the world down.

THEMATIC.ABOUT : Collapse often. The things that hold people together and hold them apart and scatter brains. The things that make thoughts go boom. The things that ooh and aah and [expletive deleted]. Sometimes poking around the margins where responsibility ends and the only one to look to is the Original Equipment Manufacturer and say "but, I already pressed 9 for more options and the menus are exactly the same. Can you just replace it?" The answer will be: "please hold." Sometimes hanging out in dark corners. Sometimes following the train tracks. Looking for ways out and ways in and all the while sharing the things seen and heard and done and drawn and written and scorched and healed and teased and caged and dreamed along the way.
Showing posts with label narcissism. Show all posts
Showing posts with label narcissism. Show all posts

8/2/11

The Right One In

This entry was about a thousand words longer, but I thought about it some more and boiled it down beyond harping.

There are people that are there for you and there are people that think they are there for you. People that listen to you talk and try to participate in your dreams and delusions and end up sounding like hollow eyed parrots. People that try to hug you and have no idea how to actually hug another human being. People that think being there means saying "hey come by anytime" when you're not actually able to get there. Or, saying "sure come and stay as long as you need to except we'll have you moved to a homeless shelter if you don't find a place to stay in fourteen days." Amongst other things, it's just galling and conceited of a person to insist that they're "there" for you when they have no concept of what "being there" actually means to you and they believe themselves to be a saint to you when what they're doing is about as useful as giving a homeless man an end table and saying "my work here is done."



Don't tell me we have everything in common because we both had bad parents and should suddenly be bonded for life with endless stories to tell each other. Suffering maybe universal on a general level of human experience, but personal suffering is just that. Exceptionally personal. Never tell someone, after they tell you explicitly that you have nothing in common, that you have everything in common because you both had a bad dad, or wanted to play sports when you were little. How arrogant do you have to be to tell someone that you know them better then they know themselves. It's just plain stupid.

Don't ever tell me you're there for me and I won't let you in or don't want to be your friend because I'm afraid that you're "there for me," and I'm running away. It's a thing I don't want to dignify with a response.

I know myself pretty god damn well (though there's still so much I still learn) and know one knows me better than my former psychiatrist because I've told him things I haven't and will never tell anyone. Don't tell me, ever, that I'm afraid to let you in. Any person can want to be let into your life. Any person can want to be there for you and stand outside the windows of your eyes asking why you treat them so badly because they've been there for you all this time and you never once thanked them. Any person can want to be like you and have everything in common with you. But what it takes to "be there for me", trust, you cannot and have not done. Why should I thank you. When I tell you we have nothing in common, it's because I know myself well enough to be able to say so with certainty. And when it comes to who you let into your life, everything else becomes secondary, as long as you let the right one in, and I'm sorry, but it isn't you.

I'm sorry about that last part. It wasn't written directly to you, but to the person who is causing some problems because they thought and probably still swear to themselves up and down that they are all of those things that I just explained to you, so many people are not. It's grown tiresome, and I just had to get it out of my skull.

Some people really are there for you. Some people can be let into parts of your life. Some people do have things in common with you and me. But most people aren't, can't, and don't and one thing life has taught me through the years is that if you don't let the right one in, it makes it tough to move anything else forward when they start to ask you why you push them away.

Anyway, missed ya. Be back later with more items de arte.


Massive Attack - "Man Next Door" ...from here... onto the night.

11/7/05

everyone and their mama 11/07/05

Subject : everyone and their mama has a six pack
Posted Date: : Nov 7, 2005 10:08 PM

everyone and their mama has a six pack. Yes. Thats right. Absolutely everyone on myspace and their mother has a six pack. If your picture features you with no shirt on while you "floss" your hot six you are essentially saying "this is all i have to offer the rest of the world" please love me. Do you really think your 320 by 480 pixel image of six lumps on your body will make everyone say... "holy shit this dude is awesome, i wish i could be his friend in real life. ill just have to friend him and leave comments as though ive known him since he was born." ... well i guess if you are posting images of your rippling bod this is probably exactly what youre hoping for. confirmation.

So now you know. Your six parcel does not set you apart from the rest of the males. it does not tatoo an alpha on the side of your neck that will suddenly make panties fly down the toned tanned limbs of the honies. in fact everyone has got them. at least everyone who cares. I don;t have one and i dont care. i barely have a four pack and i'll tell you what, its awesome. no maintenance. i eat what i want and drink what i want and enjoy life without the insecurity of narcissism plucking out my eyelashes one by one as i lose sleep wondering if the ho ho i had for lunch is going to coalesce into a gram of fat particles.

instead of pumping iron in the gym with the other roid head protein (shake) guzzlers or beating myself half dead around a track i sit comfortably at home playing video games and shagging my wonderful wonderful lady. who is smoking hot.

earth to slater, a recent poll actually pointed out that more "attractive" women enjoy dating men who look like men. just regular guys. who wear dirty sweatpants, grow beards, and have little egg bellies. i mean, even if someone did go out with you for your sextuplets what is going to happen when they fade away in the deluge of beer, partying, and sedentary bf/gf life? i suppose to someone like you it probably doesnt matter, shallow hal that you are, it's too bad you haven't been beaten upside the head to adjust your view of everyone and everything that may happen to have breasts and a vagina.

oh well. go, mr. six pack picture. go to the gym and to the track and take pictures of yourself with your web cam for myspace when you get back, but don't dally or the sweat may dry off, and we all know how important that lustrous sheen is when dazzling your lesser viewers. in your mind you are god and well, i applaud you, because one day you're going to stare up at the cracked plaster of your bachelor pad with some myspacer slut lieing next to you that you "scored" with (but not really because she was the one who made all the connections and did all the work and will forget about you before the sun comes up while you will reminisce to your home skillets about how you really gave it to her for weeks upon weeks to come) and you will realize she probably did this to the other 9000 "cool dudes" who messaged her after she left comments on their six pack of "hot" abdominal pictures.

Mr. six pack... i salute you! king of the man bimbos.

the only six packs i care about carrying are the ones that come with aluminum tabs and are bound together in plastic ring caddies. =count it!=