tron's Blog

misanthropy 1o1
Date: Feb 9th, 2008 10:31:25 pm - Subscribe
Mood: explosive


Everyone is fake. Or disappointing. Or both.

Yesterday I realised that my friends are useless. But they like to think that they are better than they are.

I'm not sure what to do.

You know how friends say that no matter what, when you need them they'll be there? Well when that moment turns up and they don't come... even if you don't want them, but they should be there... when that moment comes...

My moment happened last year. And no one turned up. And until now, I didn't care. I'm tired. Tired of even giving one shit about people. I've got a torch, and I'm taking long hard look at some bridges.

My friends like to think they are potential heroes. They like to think that they are good friends. But they aren't. They make their own lives busy, messy places. Some have genuine reasons... but others don't. Or at least, some have reasons that I can see working for them in their own minds to justify themselves.

Am I reading more into people than there is to see? Am I foolish for thinking that they can be more than what they are. Surely one ounce of intelligence and a little fucking sense will prevail.

I'm fucking furious.

I'm hurt.

I feel stupid for not realising this sooner.

Not all people are wastes of time. Not all people value form over function in every aspect of their lives. OK. Rant over. There is fucking hope.

And really... it is the ultimate stupidity to let someone so stupid, shallow, artificial and deluded colour my whole existence. I'll just have to be a lot more cynical and put the loyalty of 10 years of shit with other people behind me.

Time does not excuse.
Comments: (4)

rburton76 - February 09th, 2008 Don't get too cynical or you'll come to the conclusion that the needs and wants of other people pertain to you only so far as your own needs and wants are concerned. That's a bad path to tread. The third volume of Proust's Remembrance of Things Past ends with this great scene where this man shows up at a couple's house as they're heading out to dinner with news that he's fatally ill. I can't remember how Proust put it, with a clever sort of sarcasm, he wrote that the man was well-mannered enough to understand that news of his illness was less important to the couple than their not being late to the dinner, and that the couple, being likewise well-mannered, understood that their dinner plans were less important to the man than his impending demise. In the end, they took a minute to talk to him but he didn't keep them. I'm not saying things are always like that with people, just most of the time.

tron - February 10th, 2008 I would confront them tear, dearest, but what would there be to say? "Hi friend, your shitty behaviour and inane life have robbed me of my interest in other humans. You are an utter disappointment and exemplify all the social conventions I abhor!"? There is nothing I can do. Nothing. Except hope to god that some real people or pop up in my real life soon.

anonymous - February 11th, 2008 I am fake - Stu

anonymous - May 01st, 2008 I feel the same way about my "friends" and basically I've come to the point where i just don't care anymore. Fuck em. All i need is me and I think I'm a good person. If they can't see that or appreciate it then it's their loss. Most people are selfish liars anyway.

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