Ah

Well, I haven't posted in awhile...

That's all I have to say about that.

I've gotten some notices that my comments don't work on this blog. At first I tried to fix it, because I wanted to hear what people had to say, if anything. But then I thought, maybe it was better this way.

I created this blog simply to vent. I'm not trying to sway or entice people with eloquence. Nor am I looking to profit from this blog in any way. I just wanted to vent.

But no one can comment. So, it gives off the impression that no one is reading this blog. And yet I'm putting it out there for the world to read. A coward's recluse. I can say whatever I want about whatever I want, and you can't comment about it. nyah-nyah.

Lemme just say, I have a real problem with emos. Seriously, who the hell do you think you are to call yourself more emotional than someone else? Wimpy red marks on your arm doesn't mean shit. Everyone knows if you display your cuts, your just as fake as your intents. So cover up and do something real with yourself. Anyway, because of my hatred of emos, I'm also stuck with an inability to talk about my feelings...

...because it makes me, in turn, feel emo.

But I'm not. Lemme say, as well, that I've had a good life. I've suffered no trauma in my life *knocks on wood* and I'm very grateful for that. And the problems I have aren't big or damaging or anything of the sort. But they are there. And I suppose, since they won't go away, they mean something to me.

These are the kind of problems that everyone has. The kind that you oh so casually slip into a joke while talking to your best friend. You slip in that little subtle and kinda funny problem to your bestie, with half of you praying they don't notice and the other half praying that they give you that look that tells you they understand.

Because you don't want to be a burden. And you don't want to be considered emo. You just want...something. Some kind of recognition from anyone. You don't want pity, you don't want advice. Because advice doesn't help. It's words from someone else, who can't empathize no matter how much they want to think they can. You just want a look. You just want someone to know. Guilty pleasures, or something.

I feel undeserving. That's all I have to say. And you can't comment about it. Nyah-nyah.