…have this weird obsession with boobs? When I say everyone, I really mean EVERYONE. I don’t care if you’re a straight woman/man or a gay woman/man. You like boobs. Really, they are just balls of mozzarella cheese that hang from your chest. Sure, they are squishy and “pillowesque”/”comfortable”, but WHY? Why is it that giant lumps of fat being on your chest(and even on yo backside) are considered “hawt”? If I had a D lump coming off of the side of my stomach, I’m sure people would give me funny looks and I would be even less attractive to the opposite sex. If boobs were on your back instead of your front, would they be sexier? I guess people could check you out a lot easier, but it just seems like an illogical set-up…
So I just started on Tumblr and I thought I’d start out with something that really means a lot to me. That “something” would be Gotye and most definitely that specific video clip.
That video means a lot to me. I cry every time I watch it. It taps into this weirdly “dark” place in my mind where I feel like I am slowly alienating myself from everybody, or rather when people first meet me, they enjoy my company but come to find that I’m really not that important of a person. I’ve been stuck in this vicious circle of crap lately and after having cried (maybe) 3-4 times in the past three years, I have cried enough in the past few months to make up for lost time.
Being let down, or being thrown aside and taken advantage of has happened to me my whole life, so whenever bad things happen to me, I immediately blame myself. I don’t know if it really is me, I could just be centering too much around myself. It could be me, and people just find me easy to use. I am the type of person who wants to help people because I know what it’s like to feel like nobody is willing to help you.
I’ve been picked on, I’ve been made fun of like most people, so I know how it feels to be that kid who is always alone or that loser in the corner who doesn’t get asked to dance. I learned, though, by trying to keep laughter in everything, and telling yourself you don’t care things can get better, but only on the outside. I may look like I’m okay, or say I’m okay but the majority of the time, even in a room full of “friends” or people who “love” me, I feel left out. I feel like I don’t belong. Like I’m just this piece of furniture that collects dust and occasionally gets moved or given away to be another person’s problem. I try to get involved and trick myself into believing that I’m having fun. It works for a while, but then I start slipping back into that weirdly “dark” place.
This post was far longer than I intended it to be. I realize I’ve gotten way off of the topic of “I’ve posted this really amazing song/video clip to share with anyone who hasn’t seen it yet”. That video was just a lead-in into what I guess will be a back-story of a person you may or may not know, or think you know. People probably won’t even see this blog, but if they do and you’re one of those people reading this, get ready for me opening up and telling things I have either told to very few people, have never told, or that many people know about. If you’re one of those people who doesn’t care about people who blog about their “difficult” or “pathetic” lives, then I appreciate that you’ve read this far. Trust me, I would normally be in the same boat as you. At this point in my life, I feel like I need to just write to get things off of my chest and relieve stress that weighs down on me every day. Read this/don’t read this, follow me/don’t follow me. I won’t be offended because I won’t know if you’ve read this.