Why I Hate People.

2001-10-24 - 5:13 a.m.

Ah, the frenzy of activity with a new website...just wait a couple weeks and then I won't be writing anything at all...just staring, drooling at the screen, waiting for inspiration, but not even really caring...hooray!

I was just thinking about how much I hate people...

Well, in theory they're okay...I like people, most of the time. I think we can do better than we are now and (Lord help me) I think that one day we will do better.

It's just in practise that I hate people. I hate meeting them. I hate the whole social "dance" you have to go through, just to feel comfortable that they won't stab you and take your wallet or something. I hate small-talk. It's like the time I got beat up (my mom says "assaulted") for nodding "hello"...

There was this guy walking his dog, and I was feeling pretty sociable at the time, so I nodded hello. Or tried to...my head, in mid-nod, suddenly spasmed or something, and probably made me look "challenged" in some way...so the guy hit me...again and again.

This isn't the only reason why I hate meeting new people...just one of the more dramatic ones.

And here I am in a new city, lived here 5 months, and no real new friends...

Everyone's great at work, but I find it really tough to actually be sociable...until I'd been here a few months, I'm not sure what they thought of me...in most new situations, I either sit there quietly, playing with my school bag or something (bad), or I actually speak, usually blurting out some really lame joke that no one can actually understand, either because it's so out of context or because I mumble or something. Do I mumble? The amount of times I have to repeat myself is really making me wonder...seems like only my family members and close friends (who? Hehehe...) can understand me first go...and then there's my "dead baby joke" collection. That's probably not won me any friends.

Anyway, the reason why I'm writing this is because I was downstairs on my break and this guy walks up to me, and I hate it when people walk up to me because it means they're probably going to talk to me, and I'll say something and they'll say "what?" and I'll repeat myself, and they'll get this look of confusion, shake their head, and then hit me. Again and again.

I didn't get hit, except for a cigarette, and he offered to sell me a crystal glass for 2 bucks, which I couldn't buy because I'm poor, but you see why I hate people.

Anyway, not sure why I wrote this, but I thought you should know about me, and it's really boring at work.

Cheers

Magus

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