The Narc

My upstairs neighbors have lived up in their apartment a few years. Aside from the occasional fuckfest, where it sounds like they’re coming through the ceiling, and the scent of shitty skunk weed permeating through the entire building everyday, they’ve been model tenants.

Well, someone snitched. I expect it was the new white couple across the hall. There’s something about them. They look snotty, snobby, maybe northern (sorry). I can’t quite describe it. While they look far from cultured, they look like the creme de la creme of white trash Brahmins. I could be wrong. I look, act, and sound intellectually disabled, so people judge accordingly. I should be the first to know there are hidden unseen layers to people.

We all got a letter on our doors. ” If the smoking continues, we will do unannounced inspections and will terminate the lease and file eviction papers.” Paraphrasing.

I’m immensely paranoid that I still smell pot, that management will come and throw me out too for other reasons. If they try to come in on me, I will cite the lease that says reasonable time must be given, that I’m not the one, and that I want my worker to be here if they come in. Lord, give me strength.

I will be afraid every time I go out now that they’re coming in. My worker took me to the store today, and when I came home, my cats were hiding. This made me suspicious that they’d been there. I checked my door at 5pm as I do everyday, paranoid I’ll find something saying they’re getting rid of me. It’s a constant obsession with me. Occasionally, I check more than once. Now that there’s a snitch, how long will it be before they start complaining about me too? I’d never find another apartment. My friend might take me in, but I’d be at her mercy. Considering she called me a lazy retard the other day for mopping my kitchen with pure bleach and then feeling respiratory issues, it would be best not to be with her all the time.

11th Blogoversary

So yeah, it’s 11 years since I published my first barely coherent blog post, and I’m here. Mood : Ambient pessimism.

Can’t say I’ve progressed much since 2020 blogoversary, except maybe in weight gain, but I’m here.

This place, heavens, is my ‘safe space.’

The Jest

I haven’t allowed myself time to get mad yet if the anger will ever come. I don’t want to lose people I consider friends, one who I consider family. I’m trying to chalk it up to their youth and that if they knew how bad it would end up hurting me, they wouldn’t have done it.

They made up that my crush was an author on Medium. I knew he definitely had the talent for it, as he’d show me snippets of writing before. As I read my crush’s alledged blog and his Sad Emo Incel tweets, what can I say, it made me want to comfort him and love him even more. I even imagined some of his Tweets were about me. One asked ‘me’ why ‘I’ loved him, that he was much smarter than ‘me’ and he couldn’t love himself. One said that it made him sad that ‘I’ thought he was pretty. I had said to Anonymous that I was prettier than him a couple days beforehand in jest, so I thought Incel was tweeting about that. It gave me such a rush to think he was secretly telling me things through his 3k follower Twitter. I even said something about liking intellectuals and the next day, he tweeted something like, the reason he became an intellectual was ‘because it was one sphere women hadn’t infiltrated.’ Incels say the darndest things.

It made me bolder than I otherwise would’ve ever dared to have been. So I declared myself to my friend, the first person I ever said it to. He ignored me at first, but finally told me he had ‘zero interest in me, that people were lying to me.’

At first, I hoped he cared for me. I thought I had proof that he liked me back, a purloined screenshot, seemingly of my friend confessing he liked me, appreciated me always being there for him, and that he liked that I read his entire blog.

Now if you know me, a big thing for me is feeling like I’m needed even slightly. It gave me a raison d’etre for a minute.

When I found out it was all fabricated, I was devastated. Weeping, ugly, fat tears. Not only did I have to contend with rejection, the knowledge that he didn’t need me at all broke me. I still haven’t quite processed the whole thing. There’s a part of me that wishes to believe it was real and my friend asked everyone to tell me a story.

What likely was meant to happen in the joke was I was supposed to be weirded out by Incel Andy’s writing and swear off my crush…. But when I like someone, I like them faults and all.

So here I am as alone as ever.

…

When I told him the truth, I knew he wouldn’t want me. I don’t know why I hadn’t been able to steel myself for the inevitable rejection that came about 24 hours ago.

All my life, I’ve carefully been able to hide from being rejected outright by just not saying anything to anyone I crushed on. I knew I was too hideous, and that my personality was too drab to overcome the ugliness. In fact, my personality just underscores the ugly.   Plus I act like an idiot, walk like an idiot, and dress like an idiot. If it quacks like a duck, then it must be a duck.

When I look back on my life, there were clues that I’d always play the roll of the reject. The man who laughed as I choked when I was 5, then yelled at me when I was able to bring up the candy and spit it out on the ground. My kindergarten teacher who never failed to let me know she despised me. The other teachers talking about me when my first grade teacher fawned over me. “I don’t know what she sees in her. She just stays to herself.” They thought I was too stupid to know. The fact is, I was just bright enough to understand.

I wish my mother had miscarried me, like she did the baby before me. I should never have been born. I will never be a positive to society, no one will ever need me, and most certainly no one will ever want me.

To think I was lulled into believing someone could care about me.  It looks like I didn’t remember the lessons I learned in 2012 when I fled from the guys I roomed with. I’ll just fucking never learn.

He has zero interest in me, none. Zilch. I will always be the punchline in people’s jokes.

Parasocial Activity

So I kept mulling over my letter to Anonymous Crush, and it came to me that I would not be satisfied until I told him personally. Now, unless you’re avoidant like me, you might not realize what a step this was. I have never in my life told someone I was in love with him because of the inevitable rejection. But I did even though I knew he wouldn’t be interested, because it was burning me up inside. He could’ve been mean about it, told me I made him projectile vomit, or that I was too dumb to find my way out of a Dollar Store plastic bag, but he didn’t. Instead, he ignored me and won’t talk to me at all. I think he told me why he won’t speak to me in a Tweet today. I guess I deserve it. I should’ve bottled it up, as I’ve always done. Nothing will ever change for someone like me.

Am I sorry I told him? Yes and no, Yes, because I feel more alone now than I did before. No, because I proved to myself I actually could ‘fess up like a normal person, and maybe it will serve him well somehow. I imagine, though, he could do far better, and gets other hussies throwing themselves at him. It is what it is.

A Note to Anonymous

Not that it matters even if you were to believe me, but yes, I am in love with you. If I had the chance to be with anyone on the planet, it would be you. Even if you are kind of sexist and a Trumper…I’m sure you have your reasons, especially for the former thing. I’d listen to you, even if it would be a snow day in a hell full of Rush Limbaughs before I could see myself feeling nothing but contempt for Trump and a tiny bit of pity.

I’ve always thought highly of you, but never allowed myself to go there until she left. It hit me like bricks, then. I try to hide it, pretend it’s platonic love, because I know you would reject me. And then when you were so kind to me on Thanksgiving, I knew there was no going back.

I’m assuming there’s a good 60 or more IQ point advantage over my paltry 96 IQ, but I’m fascinated how much brilliance and talent are in one vessel of humanity.

I’m in no way a positive to you: Irksome, dim, childish, a poser at writing, too avoidant, and ugly. But, unlike beautiful people, I have enough capacity within me to love you deeply. I’d be willing to be just your friend if you would let me. I want to be with you in any capacity you would let me.

Yours,

Lisa

Walmart, Dollar Tree, Dollar General Video Haul

In the Evenings, I Really Start to Despair

I’ve noticed the last few nights, my anxiety and depression worsen at night…and don’t forget the paranoia. I think every overheard conversation is about me, that everyone around me dislikes me and are out to get me some way. I haven’t quite hit the delusional train yet, because I’m aware it’s at least partially untrue. All my fears are exacerbated by the knowledge I have no one to turn to now.

I’m afraid every phone call is going to be the death knell, that someone is going to tell me something awful that I won’t be able to bounce back from.

And I desperately want someone to love me, but it’s never going to happen.

Alone

I haven’t spoke with my BFF since the 27th. That is, I haven’t spoken to her where she deigned to reply. One day, I felt particularly desperate to not be alone, so I made small talk in messenger: “Hey, they shot an 18 year-old here the other day by the mailboxes.”

Nothing. Not even her regular, “The people living there are animals.” I guess I really messed up if I don’t get to hear her denigrate my apartment complex, the entire southeastern United States, or virtually everyone she ever knew.

I’m actually worried about her. I check Messenger every day to make sure she’s OK. If she needed something/someone, I’m confident she’d let me know.

I worry I will wind up an unattended death, or evicted, or with a life-threatening disease, and no one will be there for me. It’s an overwhelming fear.

I worry about my impulsiveness when I’m really upset, that I get manipulative the more upset I get. I don’t mean to, but it is an extreme character flaw of mine, and I really need to work on that.

I wish she didn’t think I tried to turn her boyfriend against her. I did no such thing. The one time he threatened to leave, he was fucked up, and she had been nasty to both of us on Christmas 2019. The other times, he cried that he thought she didn’t love him, etc, and I would try to convince him otherwise.

Bringer of Woe

If, dear reader, you were following along last year, you’d recall me freaking out seeing firetrucks everywhere.  I thought my apartment complex might have gone up in flames, because I was coming out of McDonald’s, and couldn’t guage how close the fire was to my home. No worries, though, as it was just some poor soul dying in about the worst way -Drunk, the man kicked over his kerosene heater and incinerated himself in the woods.

Walking home, smelling the remaining smoke, which had a strong plastic/chemical smell I recall thinking maybe 2020 is not gonna be a good year.

That was last New Year’s Eve. This New Year’s Eve, in front of Dollar General, I watched a half-dead woman dragged out of her car onto the asphalt as an ambulance neared. She was barely breathing, and had a big bandage on her forehead. Somehow, she had fallen before piling her 4 children in the car and deciding to head to Dollar General. People seemed to think she was on something. After working on her a long time, the ambulance pulled away going to the hospital for a MRI.

What the hell? Am I particularly bad luck on New Year’s? Now that I think of it, the year before the year before I saw an ambulance rushing into my apartment complex.

Someone kindly reminded me that it was probably not an omen, that I just lived in a shitty part of town.

Hope things look up in 2021!