I don’t even know what I want to say with this. It’s a ramble. Its heat of the moment, its regret and looking back on all of the things I’ve missed out either by procrastination or on purpose. Don’t even read this. Turn back, its just a rambling mess..



























I’m tired of believing in people. I’m tired of having the simplest of expectations dashed, I’m tired of forgetting that I’m supposed to be mad at you. I’m tired of putting myself out there and being dropped on my ass. I’m tired of being positive and kind and holding my hand out either in support or in favor, and having it being greedily taken or smacked away, only to be missing that same hand when I am in a similar situation. I’m tired of asking, and pleading like a dog, like I have only one option. I don’t know how to open up more options. I don’t know how to connect with someone else, and I live in the largest city in the country.

This has always been my problem. MY problem. I don’t know how to open up to people, because in my mind, everyone is always looking at me like I am weird. ‘Be yourself, people will like you’ I laugh at that. People wont like me as myself. People wont like a crazy cat lady, anime-obsessed, introverted person who has such a small pool of people she blurts everything out at super speed, because its only a matter of time before they leave. People wont like a girl who overshares because she has to cover a wide range of topics to hopefully say something that YOU like, to connect on. People wont like a girl who can’t tell when they’re desperately trying to escape.

They all think I’m weird. All of them. That’s the starting point. There is no ‘not caring what others think’ because from the second I’m seen, I’m Weird, or strange, or odd.

If I don’t receive the right type of feedback, then I hate myself. If I screwed up and there is no connection, then I want to crawl in a hole and refuse to speak for 10 years. I want one of the dog collars that shock you if your voice is over a decibel. Because a moment later, I forget that embarrassment. I’ll be so desperate to say something, to make someone like me or to say something someone will like that I forget how they hate me, or how they don’t want to hear me speak.

So I don’t talk, I rely on who I know, but those are the scariest people because they say it to my face. Strangers trail off, strangers run, strangers I can run from. You can’t run from friends or family. But Friends can run from me. And I forget. I forget the last time you didn’t talk to me, or the last time you cancelled on me, or the last time you insulted me on a very personal level. I want you to like me, so I speak, I give, I hold out my hand. I share an extra personal piece of information. I share something I’m secretly proud of, some unconventional idea or dream only to have it used against me a heartbeat later. The people who I’m closest to… who I thought I was closest to I start keeping secrets from because they don’t mean as much to others as they do to me. But I still talk, I still open up, because I forget. I still try to explain away, to rationalize my weirdness so that ‘normals’ wont hate me, so that they wont look at me like that.

‘you’re hard to buy for’ No I’m not. you’re hard to talk to. You’re hard to explain things to. If I spoke about my interests as frequently as you, then all I would get is those looks. Those curled lips, that awkward smile, the ‘uhu’ of a ‘kind’ rejection, the shifting pleading for the topic to be changed to something more NORMAL.

But this is all MY problem. So we don’t speak. We are only around each other when we have to be, because I make YOU feel awkward. I have an opinion YOU don’t like, I gave YOU misinformation, so you hate me, you abandon me. Fine. Its easier to be alone anyways. Alone I don’t have to talk. Alone I don’t have to explain to anyone why I spent an hour analyzing why a character is depressed, alone I don’t have to explain why the final moments of a character’s life is making me sob my eyes out. Alone I can wear whatever I want, whatever pitch black lipstick I want, listen to any style of music I want and attend any event I want, ALONE. I can be in a sea of people and be completely alone and feel safer than in a group of familiar faces. Because I’m weird, and everyone knows it. I know it, I know they know it. They probably think I’m confident in my weirdness, they don’t know that each glace is a stab of paranoia that something is weird that I have not made so on purpose, that some real part of me is painfully obvious and painfully wrong.

And so I geek out on the new seasons, the new programs, the new games and the new music, alone. I silently scream in pure happiness over a plot climax because if I’m heard people will ask why I’m happy and push the reason off as ‘Asian crap’. If I’m caught in a moment of weakness I’ll open my big fat mouth and tell the truth. And regret it the second my mouth closes. No one cares. No one cares if Eren fixes a wall, no one cares if Asanos second series has been animated, no one cares if I’ve created a whole fictional world that I will NEVER share with you because its all weird. Its all weird. I’m weird. And when I am not met with the same amount of enthusiasm I put out there, I know I screwed up. And I close my mouth. And then 10 seconds later I forget. But they don’t.

I remember incidents years ago, on my grade 8 grad trip, the look of relief on one of the teachers faces when another interrupted me and changed the subject. That moment is crystal clear in my mind. I remember being accused of cheating because I went above and beyond in an assignment I was fascinated with. I remember so many half-moments where people are relieved to shut me up and send me away.


Am I really so bad? Why don’t my friends want to be around me? Why don’t people want to talk to me?


But I digress. This is MY problem. I can’t expect people to be interested in what I like. I’m weird. I can’t expect people to want to help me or be nice to me just because I did the same for them. I can’t expect people to put me first when I am not and have not been a priority for a while, and I’ve known it. I just keep asking. And asking. And getting angry. And forgetting. Always forgetting.

Out of all of the people I know, there is not a single person I can tell absolutely everything to, because I Am Weird. I try to watch my words, and hate myself when something real slips out. Will this information bring up this topic? Why did I say that? If I say this will they ask why? Will they roll their eyes? Or will I get the ever favorite. ‘whatever that’s stupid’. Why did I say that? Will this information make them want to spend more time with me? Does this make me look desperate? How do I explain this in ‘normal’? do they care about that? No, they didn’t. That wasn’t funny. Why did I say that? Oh good their looking at me. Why did I say that? Why did I say that? I’ll turn my phone off so I’m not waiting for a reply that will never come. I’ll stop making plans. I’ll stop asking. I’ll stop inviting. I’ll stop expecting. I’ll stop sharing. But then I’ll forget.


“Hey, what’s up?”