solitary -- a rant
July 28, 2003 @ 12:21 a.m.
Fort Wayne. Becky. Me. August 15-17, week after my 20th birthday.
Rock.
In other news, I need a CD burner and/or an mp3 player because I have some kickass songs downloaded from Kazaa. Yes, I download. Not much, but I do. My stuff of choice tonight has been "Bohemian Like You" by the Dandy Warhols (great road trip song), "Beautiful World" by Coldplay, and "Fever" and "Putting on the Ritz" by Ella Fitzgerald.
I've also been listening to "Jesus Wants Me For a Sunbeam" by Nirvana (a Vaselines cover), onelinedrawing (thanks to Bobby), and "Lover Man" by Billie Holiday.
I have the greatest taste in music ever.
I don't really have any news, and I don't really have anything to say, but I felt like updating. I'm in a very calm mood tonight, although my kidneys are driving me crazy.
...Kidneys, you say, readers?
Ah, yes, kidneys. Something is going on with my kidneys and I have no idea what. It's possible it's a UTI but I've had it, on and off, for over a month now. And it's come back strong the last couple of days.
I can't really describe it well...it's like when you stretch and something catches in your back. Right now it's a constant ache in my right side, as though I've got a pulled muscle or something. I'm drinking cranberry juice (jew-ess, Becky ;) like there's no tomorrow, which I absolutely abhor, but I don't think it's helping.
In short, Kelly needs a hug :(
Oh. And I would like a boyfriend. Not so much because I want all the problems that go along with them (who does?) but more because I would like the companionship, and the mutual caring and cuddling and laughing.
And it would be nice to be able to be around an actual boy that I'm comfortable with, one that I can smile at and laugh with and not shake like a leaf when I'm around them. I've never really been comfortable around a boy.
...Well, I take that back. I was comfortable around Blaine. But just because I'd known Blaine for so long, and because he was SO unattainable (thanks to Becky), and, for God's sakes. He'd seen my underwear. Things weren't going to get much more personal than that.
There are certain boys I can deal with honestly, because I don't care what they think. I'm not out to impress them. Blaine was one. Jerry, Jessica's boyfriend, was another. He would tell a joke or make fun of someone and I would fire right back. My wit's pretty good, around people like that.
But around boys I really care for romantically, or ones I'm actually concerned about -- forget it. I act like a dipshit. I do one of three things: I don't talk at all, or I get really nervous and stumble over my words, or the worst of all: I act like a sardonic idiot and say anything insulting that comes out of my mouth.
Can I just assure you all that I suck so much?
I can have an intelligent conversation, and I can function rather easily. You put me in a room with a boy I like, I turn into a babbling pre-teen.
It's just always been that way. And it's always been nice, because I haven't had to deal with boys. Boys just don't like me. It works that way. I get to chase them around in circles and they forget I exist.
Maybe it would work better if I wasn't so attracted to boys. If I was asexual -- unfeeling -- it would work better. Because I could ignore the fact that I'm not attractive.
I understand that there is more to being attractive than looks, but it's generally how you take care of yourself. I don't. Because I don't care. I don't wear makeup, I don't dress nicely. I hate the "girly" clothes I have, and wear them only after my other clothes are dirty. I wear baggy clothes, I don't flaunt, I don't pretend that I'm attractive. My breasts aren't perky, I'm fat, I should be maimed, not modeled.
I know I'm not pretty. I accept that, most days. But I won't fool you into thinking otherwise, not even for a moment.
I think even if I was pretty, though, it wouldn't make a difference. I would still think I'm too fat, too round-faced, not good enough. I was 100 pounds lighter in eighth grade and frowned at the little fat I had then.
I have been made fun of, had things thrown at me, seen lips raised in disgust. How would you expect me to believe you when you say "Oh Kelly, you're not that bad?" (That bad?)
How can I believe you, when there are magazines and sitcoms and movies and millions of men (stomachs growling) lunging at the thin ones, the perky-breasted brunettes and redheads on billboards?
How can I believe you, when I've been downright ignored for the last twenty years?
I can't breathe without wheezing. I don't want anything to do with life, and it doesn't want anything with me. I don't have goals. I don't even want to have goals. I don't want anything, really.
Except a boy who cares.
Because there are some people out there who don't deserve what they have. And yet they have it.
And still here I stand, solitary.
Not even a little bit accompanied.
Solitary.
<< | >>
- - March 22, 2010
always the same - July 01, 2008
b-a-n-a-n-a-s! - December 25, 2006
elementary again - October 29, 2006
I don't like you, but I love you - October 03, 2006