Here is my unsolicited apology. I have been ignoring the blog. Life gets in the way, guys. I don’t like to force the writing for this website. No one pays me for this shit. I do it because I like it. I don’t want my writing to come off like a contrived job. I have more respect for myself and you. I also wanted to see how much traffic that the site draws on its own without posting to Facebook and Twitter every day. I am satisfied with how well this blog actually does.
So what have I been up to? Making awful mistakes in my personal life, wearing pink shirts, performing stand up comedy, doing photo shoots (more information to come upon the website’s release) and doing all of the internet operations for Get Involved Comedy (big things coming in the next few months). I’ve been a busy little Hughbear. There was no purpose to any of that other than just to brag, but whatever.
Take the jump to hear a solid rant!
I don’t feel like making a big lead in to this post, so I figured I would talk to you on a personal level, oh dear reader. Are you there reader? It’s me, Hugh. What I want to talk about is expectations and communication. Popular topics on Operation: Love. Females tend to read this blog and feel like I’m some sort of modern-day Romeo ready to sweep them off of their feet. All the meanwhile, I’m feeling them out as a person. Lately, the people who I have met and “felt out” have all turned out to be vapid, uninspired, colorless, dull, boring, unimaginative, lifeless, tame and any other words in the god damn thesaurus. Then they act like this is my fault that we don’t connect.
These ostentatious wannabe psychics will spend all day analyzing my words and actions rather than hear what I actually had to say. They do nothing but waste my time by hiding all of their defects as a person as best as they can. These flaws won’t come out until they do not get their way, like a kid getting denied at a toy store. It was like I was dating those vapid bitches from the selfie song. I have never felt so utterly alone in my life as I did listening to some of these women prattle on and on about other people’s problems or unimportant whispers from the boring. Listening became a chore.
Expectations can really start a war between potential lovers. Especially when a person attempts and fails at the good old “bait and switch” approach. Take this example: The rules were expressed at the beginning of the relationship. At first the relationship starts out based on laughing and orgasms as both parties intended. Mutual sexual attraction and fun is a great way to start something serious. However, people always want more. It’s just natural. Especially for people with addictive personalities. They are never happy with their current situation. They don’t know how to live in the moment. Then those same people who were totally cool with the roles of the relationship want to change the wording of the fine print. All of a sudden titles are being thrown around like some sort of Game of Thrones hearing. Then the person who was happy in the relationship becomes miserable due to the other person wanting change. How is that fair? Did that make sense or was I too vague for my own good?
I’m sorry, my lovely reader. I don’t want to call people out publicly That angle is being taken by some of the other writers that I have read on this silly little thing called the internet. Reader, I am not a spiteful man. I don’t like to hurt feelings. This is why I get upset not generating the same vibrations as a person that I am with. I am passionate to a fault. I think this gets confusing to people. However, I am digressing from my rant oh diligent Reader!
It is around this time in the relationship that the games start. Games are incredibly stupid. Especially when one party doesn’t know they are playing the game. It’s like playing “Rock, paper scissors” against a person who just thinks they are holding out a fist. I’m going to throw paper every time. Was that stupid? Whatever. I don’t know how analogies work. Any faithful Reader would know that! I think I am looking for something that doesn’t exist or I live by a different code. I just want a person who will pick up the phone when they want to talk to me. Not try to play games to see if I will use the phone first. Reader, I can’t help it that my life is a constant circus act. I get distracted very easily. I snuggle with tons of puppies and am very busy with my “hobbies” like comedy and writing. Did you sense the sarcasm, Reader? These “little hobbies” are like 2 full-time jobs. As I write this, I don’t even know where my phone is!
Any who, Reader. Often, one person in the relationship might stop texting the other all together just to see if their partner will text them first. Maybe the one person waits 45 minutes between texts, so the other party will wait an hour and a half. Sooner or later it is days and weeks between texts and the relationship has been successfully sabotaged and all bridges are burned with napalm. Was that your fucking goal, game player!? Stick to Playstation for game playing. If you want to talk to someone, reach out and talk to the person, dummy. Stop playing little games like a toddler.
There has been one thing that I have proven during the crash and burn failed relationships I have been in. That one truth? There is no “okay” way to break up with someone. And by “break up” I mean “stop talking to” because usually one party will still want to talk to the other. Breaking up seems so final and implies that there was a deep emotional connection. So let us use the word “split?”
This is where the resentments come in. Lots of times, the best way is for me to shoulder all of the blame and look like a complete douche bag so the other person can sleep at night. For some reason, I’m oddly okay with being the villain. It comes natural to me. My reputation is always hurt after a split. I think it is because I am awful at talking behind another person’s back to mutual friends. In a split with me, the other person leaves with more confidence than they originally had because her friends will tell her “He’s not worth it.” or “He’s just a jerk.” or some other made up bullshit that they feel obligated to say when an awesome person takes his awesomeness out of your life. Reader, I am not being conceited. I hope that you think you are just as awesome as I think I am. I’m sure you do a lot of cool stuff, Reader. If you don’t, maybe you should start doing awesome things?
Reader, I don’t know much but I will tell you one thing… Today’s society is completely fucked. Why does everyone think that when they are being made fun of, the other person is just “hating” or “jealous?” Is there no way to shame someone into cutting themselves anymore? What the fuck happened to America? Can no one be bad at things anymore? Ah yes, Reader. I think it is because people would lie awake at night crying about how awful they are at everything if they thought otherwise. It would be a crippling fear of failure. I just don’t like how people are implying that I want what they have. That’s what jealousy is, right? Hating also implies that I have passion towards the subject. Half of these failures are not worthy of my hate or jealousy. Do you see how silly that is, Reader?
This also goes back to my solid roots as a gentleman. I will often end things with a complex statement about confusion with feelings or distress mentally. I do this almost every time, without fail. And without fail I will be questioned like I was involved in 9/11 about these feelings or mentality. That is when I’ll stumble over words or sound like I’m lying because really I just want to say “I don’t like you.” The worst part of all of this is that I honestly tried. I gave it my best effort but like this blog, I don’t force feelings. Do you think me saying “I don’t like you.” would make people feel better or worse, Reader?
Anyway Reader, here are some things that I would say if I wasn’t such a gentleman. This is where my mind goes. I should be applauded for my restraint.
Can I just not come out and say: “Uh, because you were a socially awkward and shallow zombie. Except a zombie is more interesting to talk to because they value brains. Your passive aggressive approach to communication made me physically ill and I would volunteer myself to Clockwork Orange-like torture if it meant I was to avoid one more conversation with you about your day-to-day regimen.” without that coming out as spiteful?
Or how about saying: “You are a forsaken soul of a trollop. You’ve had more guys shoot inside of you than a gun range. Lose the required weight and refile your girlfriend application next month. Calling you a failure would imply that you have given an effort to anything other than a red velvet cake.” without looking like I’m some sort of hater?
What about saying “Everything you do goes against your own twisted moral compass. You’re the fucking Queen of the Damned and your own brilliant brain will be your own lonely demise. You’re the only person in the world that I truly believe will die alone. Your misery keeps my heart pumping.” without looking like I care too much?
Or how about “Shut the fuck up, you wicked, self-serving demon bitch. You play more mind games than Professor Xavier. I hope you will be happy with the eventual banker you marry, you boorish ghoul. There was nothing special about your contrived feelings. I found them boring and offensive. Please stop pretending you are more than what you are.” without looking like I actually care at all?
Or the ever popular “Stop trying to friend-zone me! I won’t have it, succubus. Your emotional terrorism won’t work on me. Go sandbag some other poor sap with your vagina voodoo. He will bore you like all of the rest of the men you have been with. You are equally addicted to chaos as I am and you will never be happy.” without hurting her feelings?
I think we are like this as a society because everyone’s mommy told them that they were a special little snowflake. Meanwhile back in reality the best their little superstar can hope for is to find some sort of off the books position tending bar to some drunks on a corner of Nowheres Street. You know, part of Csectionscarsburg County.
I’m just so fucking sick of people expecting me to sweep them off of their feet because of fairy tales and romantic comedies set the bar so high that everything has to have a label or some sort of genre. Maybe, I won’t give you that scene from a romantic comedy. Maybe your imagination is in overdrive? All I know is that I haven’t worked 27 years on being my own man to be labeled something in one sentence or one word.
Relationships are supposed to be complicated. Relationships aren’t perfect. Moments are. I think you need to find the person who you have the most perfect moments with and try to keep them around as long as they want to stay around. I think that our hearts have a limited number of beats and you need to find that person that makes your heart skip a beat. If your heart skips a beat once in a while you can live just that much longer with them.
Is that gay? I don’t care. Did you see the picture up top? Do you think I care anymore? I’m a broken toy at this point. Every time that I chip away the ice on my heart, I take a long look in the mirror and freeze that bitch back up.
Are you still there, Reader? It’s me, Hugh. Thanks for letting me rant, oh dear Reader. I had a lot of fun. I hope you come back in the future. Maybe I’ll be a little less sociopathic? Or maybe I’ll just keep being some sort of jealous hater when I don’t even want anything close to what you have. Seeing things through rose-tinted glasses can be fun! Delusion isn’t just a river in Egypt!
via con Dios,