yeah, i am lonely too.
and likewise, me too. in that i am bored of everyone and everything. including myself.
precious lil "people" are not as awesome or important as they act like they are.
and i am neither awesome nor important, nor do i act like it.
my first name is also unusual. my first name is not familiar in the english language, but not common in any other language either. a Yahoo search of my first name only yields articles about a disease with a similar spelling, to my first name.
unless you took out a court ordered name change, you do not choose your first name.
Hugh Lofting, civil engineer. author of Doctor Doolittle. a Yahoo search of Hugh yields plenty of Hugh's. for instance, hefner, jackman, and hewitt.
but whatever.
also, connotation versus denotation.
being "interesting" is not necessarily a good thing.
being "boring" sounds bad. but being normal sounds good. but boring and normal are in some ways the same thing.
yeah anyways. but whatever, i ain't normal and i ain't interesting either.
what is so "interesting" about me, anyways? that i went to Gender Therapy in homophobic San Diego in 2004. and the Equal Employment Opportunity Commission only started including "gender identity" on the list of protected status, in 2012? but whatever. plenty of cisgender men and women crossdress. plenty of cisgender straight women wear buzz cuts. being autistic? yes, i am wierd. but nobody appears intersted in the wierdness. unless of course, they are interested in bothering me. (rolls eyes) for a long time, i have not even found myself the slightest bit interesting.
i am boring.
big deal. being boring is not a choice or a crime or a moral flaw.
being exciting or interesting is not necessarily good.
and what is boring to some is interesting to others. for example, in the past, i have been totally obsessed. preoccuped. with a wide variety of things and precious lil "people".
obsessed with: military, gorging/weight, rape,
but someone else might find my obsessions repulsive. or, just apathetic.
big deal.
but, Hugh. sooner or later, everyone is going to die. when my precious lil "mom" dropped dead 2 years ago, my precious lil "dad" grieved. but he got over it. and my grief was brief and shallow. it's not b/c i did not "care". but b/c my precious lil "mom" used to say and do things that resulted in me feeling worse about myself. of course, maybe she had some awesome reason, that i do not know about. who is to say? and i can't be absolute or objective. but seriously, at her funeral, there were plenty of precious lil "people". but that did not stop her from dying.
my sister's friend's brother dropped dead when he was 33. he served six years in the Air Force. he got a Masters in electrical engineering. adaptable, academically smart, vocationally competent, emotionally resilient. and i am 34 and i have yet to achieve anything like he did. and i am never going to. big deal.
"life" goes on until it stops.
there might be someone that cares if you live or die, but you do not know that they care.