Monday 3 February 2014

"Holy moly, Batma-" "Shut the fuck up Robin no one gives a shit"

Long time no speak.
I wish there was an excuse, as I always do, but I think I've figured out where the problem lies: in a society growing to accept "communication" as a term more abstract and unlimited than your bog-standard face-to-face conversation, the norm is beginning to swing too far in the other direction. Whereas the all-encompassing deity that is The Internet used to be considered (and still is, by the older generations) an inferior substitute for "real life", it's becoming apparent that, actually, learning to communicate using the internet can be a most pragmatic investment and is becoming the new norm.
And that's great. Why should any kind of relationship be hindered because it is sustained, or even initiated, through a screen? It shouldn't, and I believe that, I really do. I see, every day, how beneficial the internet can be in the day-to-day life of anyone feeling troubled or lonely. The internet as I see it is a great platform for communication, which is just as relevant as the face-to-face communication favoured by technophobes and, as it transpires, myself.
Basically idk how the f I'm supposed to respond to a "hey, how are you? :)" because any way I attempt to respond feels insincere. I need the pressure of face-to-face to keep me interested. Lately I don't know if I'm: a) unable to empathise in the basic ways necessary to master any casual conversation, b) just uncomfortable being blind to a person's reactions, or c), a cold bitch. Sometimes I really, really feel like one.
Therefore, I would like to belatedly apologise to everyone who has ever attempted online conversation with me - with special regard for the hardy souls who haven't stopped trying yet. I'm sorry, and thank you.
I'm going to uni in September, which I imagine will resolve some of the problems I have regarding my infinite, endless loneliness and downward spiral into certain madness. Everything that terrified me a year ago, when I was caught up in planning to leave home at eighteen, now genuinely excites me in a way that feels right. Meeting new people? Bring it, there're bound to be creeps like me. Excessive study? Not as much of a problem as it might be - I love literature, and I cannot wait to get back into learning. Living independently? Caw caw, motherfuckers: I can make something delicious from the shittest of ingredients; I'm thrifty as all fuck; I know how to work to maximise my financial gain, and heaven knows I am not above sucking up to the right people should the need arise. (Mind out the gutter, I'm trying to make a point.) So maybe I've grown up a bit in a way that's different to my peers already in uni, but that's okay. 
Self-awareness is a wonderful thing, and a terrible affliction, so I'm done caring about the opinions of others. I'm callous and mean and manipulative and lazy - but that friend I've known all my life could be a pathological liar, and that guy I look up to could be empty on the inside. Acknowledging my own faults, defining my faults, is something I have learned to do in these last six months or so, in tandem with accepting that no one else will ever care about me as much as I do - so y'know what? Face up to what makes you a bad person, and what makes you a great person. Don't overcomplicate yourself when there's no need. 
You're probably a douchebag, but so am I. So is everyone. Let's be mean together