A Pissy Day, I Guess...

Currently, I'm listening to "Cosmia" by Joanna Newsom. The sound is getting altered by Stephen Colbert yacking on about something idiotic. God, I hate his style of comedy. He pays too much attention to himself. It's annoying. The one thing that I can't stand more than lying is vanity. Too many gay guys in this world are focused about themselves.

But that's not why I decided to write today. I woke up to my mother saying, "To hell with you. You don't matter."
You see, I had overslept by a lot. I was up until six in the morning last night just worrying. Feeling sad about life, wishing something would change, wishing a person would actually make a concrete decision, wishing I could muster the strength for an ultimatum. Thoughts like that cause a person to stay up until the break of dawn.

It's not the first time that someone told me that I didn't matter. It seems more and more people think that. I haven't changed any of my habits. I haven't changed my thought pattern. But for some reason, the authority figures in my life feel as if I have no place in their life anymore.

I've been used multiple times. I've been baited and switched. I've been promised grand things only to have them ripped away from me. I've learned not to trust people. But with that lesson, I've also learned to cut myself off of my own emotions. I have a very strong fear of eventually becoming stoic. But every time I muster up the courage to actually like someone or to be truly happy, something happens to shoot me down.

I feel so stuck and all I truly want is to leave. Sometimes, I wonder if Wichita is far enough. Maybe I need to move to a different time zone. Then, I won't even be in the same hour as the things that upset me.

I dunno. I'm just ranting.