I’m so God damn tired – and yes, the God damn was necessarily – but I can’t figure out why. I wanted to take a nap, but I don’t want it to throw me off schedule because the previous two days, today being one of them, I woke up relatively early and had a decent work out, which usually puts me in a better mood for the day. Plus I tend to be more depressed when I’m on a schedule that has me up during the night. I’m not sure why that is, but I’ll blame it on the Moon.
I’ve been spending the last few hours listening to Manchester Orchestra and Kid Cudi turned up really loud on my headphones (be sure to keep that in mind as causes of needing a hearing aid at 40) while reading blogs. I found a couple new good ones that I’ll stop by again. One of which is the reason I’m even writing this right now when not too long ago I was resigned to lying here for the rest of the night without writing another word. The blog was novelideaslifeofateenwriter.wordpress.com, and in case you’re bad at reading words when they’re squished together it says novel ideas life of a teen writer, and it’s about writing.
For some reason whenever I read about writing it always gets me in the mood for writing. Kind of like how whenever I watch porn it always gets me in the mood for knitting. Or like how whenever I’m masturbating I’m always wishing I were watching porn instead of knitting (this thing will be filled with lots of horrible jokes just like that people). Even when I read it makes me want to write. It’s because I’m constantly thinking about how I would have wrote some thing as opposed to the way they wrote it. Or I’m thinking about what they wrote and it gets my mind thinking about it and then I want to write about it. I should always read before I write. Why do I never remember to do things that help me out? Oh yeah, because I’d rather be a failure.
That’s a genuine concern of mine. I think some people want to be unhappy and constantly fail at things. I don’t think they know it. I think it’s a deep subconscious thing, an unknowing self sabotage. If this is true for me then it’s of course a giant concern. Luckily I know it’s happening, so I can combat it, by consciously trying to be sad and fail, that way my subconscious won’t have the chance to ruin things for me because I will have already ruined things (genius!).
I want to talk about the songs at least a tiny bit. This Stay Away song I really like. I like it in a happy way. I wish I had the strength to tell someone to stay away from me. I don’t though. I constantly want to be surrounded by bad people. I of course don’t see them as bad, I love them and want to be with them and can’t see that they’re the cause of so much of my sadness. But at the same time they make me so happy, and I think if given the option I’d rather live in polarities than spend my whole live in the middle with little difference in highs and lows emotion-wise. I’ve talked about it before, but what is happiness if there’s no sadness? The two can only exist with each other. Without one the other is nothing.
I get fucking sad, and I get fucking sad a lot, but when I get happy it’s magical. I’ve convinced myself that very few people can get happier than I can. Everybody should have on their bucket list ‘be around Quentin when he’s truly happy’ because it’s quite pleasant. Girls should never try to have sex with me. They should just get me really happy and hang out with me and it will be a million times more enjoyable than sex. Of course this is just a ruse because the only way to truly make me happy is if a girl has sex with me. I kid of course. You ever notice how often I say of course? Of course you don’t, you’re not paying attention, and neither am…hey, there are boobies on the internet. Why did no one tell me?
The other song, Everything I Once Had, is more sad to me, although I particularly enjoy the line, “Anyone is suitable for you…for you I guess tonight,” because everything this girl I loved alludes to having had another sexual encounter with a male I think of that line and it makes me crack up in the most bizarre way – I do not enjoy the things that make me laugh, but I do enjoy the laughing. Such a powerful ending to this song. I really enjoy powerful endings. Lasting images are important to me, which is way I work on my orgasm face constantly.
Think about it, the last impression a girl has during sex with a guy is that horrible face he makes during his orgasm. By the way, why does something so magically wonderful look so ugly? It’s how I know men are evil and women are angels – excluding the ones who are whores of course, which are few I’m sure – when men orgasm it’s so ugly, but when girls orgasm, which granted I still believe is a myth, it a masterful art even Da Vinci couldn’t hope to improve on. The point is that maybe guys would have more return costumers in the sack if the lasting image the girl received wasn’t so hideous. Also this works with my theory of why so many guys enjoy jizzing on a girl’s face. Besides the obvious reasons of shaming her, they hope it will get in her eyes and block out the vision of the horrible orgasm face they’re making.
For a guy whose biggest sexual experience is kissing, not making out but kissing, a drunk girl I sure end up talking about sex a lot. You have to believe me when I say I don’t intend at the start of any of my blogs to talk about sex as much as I do. I just have a really fucked up mind and it tends towards sex, probably because it’s so pissed off at me for never having had sex. I have this theory that my mind, body and soul are constantly rebelling against me for keeping them from the mass pleasure that sexual intercourse must be.