So it all started that day when I got rejected by my two week crush. No big deal, but it must have been more crushing than I thought (see wut i did thar). I moped for about 2 days and made sounds of lamentation which was probably closer to a moaning whale. Then the preparations for prom/formal/social/whatever you call it, I'm going to refer to it as formal--- came about. There was the fact that I didn't want to go, then coupled with the fact that I didn't have a date. More reason to not want to go. Remember me telling you about someone who I thought liked me? No no, they actually exist. I didn't invent this to make myself feel better about being rejected--- hah, can you imagine:
"And right after I was rejected, these faaaaaabulous half-naked babes ushered me onto a private jet, which flew us to Hawaii. Then I had sex with every single celebrity I've ever liked on a Hawaiian beach, and I sent a postcard to that ex-crush of mine, saying 'Fuck you, non-literally, because I'm too busy fucking everyone else who is waaaaay more attractive than you' "
.
.
.
.
.
.
SEEMS LEGIT.
So anyway back to the person who liked me--- the reason I don't like them back is because they're kind of a loser:
Them: Hey you still goin' to the formal?
Me: Yes.
Them: Do you have a date?
Me: No.
Them: What happened? You said you had one before.
Me: They're not going to the formal.
Them: Aw that sucks. I really don't want to go. None of my friends are going and I have nowhere to sit, and I don't have a date. FOREVER ALONE. I'm such a failure and loser and etc, etc. (No no, they actually said that, about themselves. No joke.)
And at this point they're looking at me with these big sparkly eyes, and I swear they've got "ask me, ask me, ask me" written all over their face.
Me: Uhm... sorry, but our table is kind of full.
Them: Aw damn. Well I'm going to see if I can not-come to the formal, because yeah I HAVE NO ONE TO GO WITH AND NO ONE WANTS TO BE WITH ME. *replay the "I'm such a loser" speech*
Me: ...Well you have fun with that. I'm off.
And with that I fled.
I sort of (but not really) hated myself afterwards, because I was sad over not having a date, but then if I think about it I seriously just pushed one out the window. That's when I realise I'd rather look like a complete and utter loner rather than go with them. I figure I'll just... stand next to attractive people on the night so people think we're together. Hooray for shameless tactics.
Then over that course of time I had a bad day formal shopping with my mother, argued with Dad about God knows what, I don't even remember. I think it was during that period also when I got emailed tonnes of rejection letters from various med schools telling me my UMAT wasn't high enough, reconfirming Dad's adamant beliefs about me having completely and utterly failed the UMAT, thus inspiring further rage from him and generating more topics of debate for future disagreements between him and I. Wow, that was a long sentence.
Pfft, and don't get me started on my mother's stupid fucking homework.
Then on top of it all I became increasingly anti-social, needing time alone to sulk and wallow in misery. I'd sit in the library trying or pretending to do maths, instead of spending time with my wonderfully bizarre friends. I stopped going to badminton, almost never felt like playing cards (once my favorite pastime) and started drawing depressing images and ink-rolling my unhappiness all over this blog. But I'm qualified to do that, this IS my blog.
But hey welcome to the present, where I officially declare that "I'm snapping out of my semi-sentimental faggoty mood." May the world (or just my readers) rejoice.
*Disclaimer*
No promises on when I will relapse into a shitty mood. But hey, at least I'll tell you allllll about it. ;)
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