foo fool

Embarrassment compilation of me playing daily since birth. It don't stop for nobody. Embarrassing moments never quit.

They're eating me alive, and my mere existence is an embarrassment compilation. The series never ends, aha aaaahhh.

Yet again, I feel bad for how I worded things in my last post. (whydon'tyoustraightupkillmewhilewe'reatithuh)

I know I've been getting comments and attention on other sites I'm active on (aka deviantart and tumblr), and yeah, I appreciate the people being nice to me on there. It's just that I meant to say I miss the attention this blog used to get back in the day. I miss getting comments from several people.

And now everything involving Blogger is like, ehhhh. And it makes me sad. :(

Sometimes I think of adding more polls and trying new things on here, but when it feels like no one's there, I don't see the point in doing that. I mean, I only get one person voting on the last few polls I did. So I don't see the point in adding more if I'll only be disappointed again.

And like.. a lot of stuff I post on here are things I don't post anywhere else. I've let it sink in my mind that this place (with how dead of a social place it's been for the past year or two) is my thoughts journal. I don't post about my thoughts and feelings as frequently or as deeply in other places as I do on here. So I still feel empty when people who used to love this blog leave one day and never come back. Or people just quit visiting here because, idk, Blogger is boring. I know what I do isn't really blogging anymore, but I like typing down my thoughts on here.

Maybe I like the privacy of posting on here, and that's why I never quit.

I want more then just one (saying two or three is a stretch) person to be interested in my stories and characters. And how I'm doing. And wanting to know if I'm okay or not.

I don't know. I miss a lot of people. This place feels like a dead zone. It feels like everyone died. Or maybe I'm the one who died since I feel so empty and disconnected nearly all the time now. Since I'm a ghost.

I hate feeling that whenever I post or even just talk about something I'm interested in, that everyone dismisses it as being stupid or they just don't care about it. I hate when I'm passionate about something that's important to me, but only being dismissed that I shouldn't be because it's only fiction. Like, haha, I'm sorry that fictional stuff feels like the only thing that's keeping me alive nowadays because yeah I still feel like hey maybe it'll be better for me and everyone if I'm dead.

And I know I must be selfish for wanting to also get comments on here when I get asks on tumblr sometimes. But tumblr isn't here. I usually don't post about personal things on tumblr.

I'm an asshole. I get that.

I feel stupid around 97+% of the time I'm awake, but get off I guess. I'm paranoid that when no one tells me anything that they're thinking I'm stupid and laughing about me behind my back when I'm not trying to be funny, but get off I guess. I hate nearly everything about me, but get off I guess.

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Why foo fool? Well, several hours ago, my mom showed me that she still gets billed from this online game I haven't played since very early 2013.

And you would think it would stop billing my mom's credit card since I haven't played the game in around five years, right?

Apparently not. I had to log in to my old account and deactivate my account so my mom wouldn't keep on being billed by it.

And it was so embarrassing. I didn't remember playing the game at all (shows how bad my memory is lol).

Thankfully, it asked for my email when I logged in, so I just put in that. And the password was so simple (yikes).

The game was Foopets, by the way. I really thought I blogged about it on here when I first started blogging but I guess I didn't. I couldn't find any posts about it, anyways.

I even had put my real name in the public about part. And I sounded so cringey. Everything about me from back then was just pure cringe. (iwanttodie)

I had a Dalmatian named Dottie. I took so many pictures of her in the game. I titled the pictures the stupidest things. (i'mdyingplshelpmelmao)

I really thought I blogged about Foopets, but I guess I did not. (whattheheck)

I am so embarrassed. 2012 and early 2013 me are complete strangers to the current me. I don't know her. She died a long time ago. Wow, my memory is getting bad. I didn't even remember I had an account to that game.

I got the Foopets account before I even started getting really interested in playing AJ. That's how old it is. (jfci'mcrying)

Oh and my username was about puppies and had 522 in it. Just like my AJ username (cutepups522). Except it wasn't cutepups, it was something even dumber than that.

I identify as an embarrassment. People sigh and are disappointed in me almost every day. I don't know why I'm still alive. :-}

To be honest, I really miss being able to log onto AJ. I miss that Animal Jams game. :(

I'm a f_cking fool.

A fvcking fool.

Foo foo the fool.

And yes, I have poem ideas. I just need motivation to write them. With nobody showing interest in my posts, I don't really get more motivation.

I'm too tired to give myself motivation. Come on now, we.'ve been through this. I'm a let down who depends on other people for validation.

I'm also feeling so empty and sad. I'm so sad, wtf.

Hi, I'm sad. :-{

Living is pain. ;-]

It's impossible for me to not hate myself. I don't feel like going into details because hey, nobody gives a sh¡t.

I can't even do basic tasks correctly. And being 17 and nearly 18 while surrounded by people younger than me who can do the tasks very easily is killing me and tearing my fragile self esteem to shreds.

That's all I'll say about it.

I'm bitter? No kidding. Of course I'm bitter. Try being me and being in my body and having my thoughts, and let's see how it's impossible to not hate myself despite how much I've been trying to be more self compassionate to myself.

Maybe I just want to not exist anymore because there's no hope in life realistically getting better. Maybe I don't want to be saved. Maybe I just don't see the point in waking up day after day to the same boring sh¡t cycle of everyday life. Change isn't always better. It's usually not.

I'm so tired of trying. I don't see the point in things ever getting better, and being an adult would be a lot more sh¡ttier than how life is now.

I'm so tired of wasting my life, but I also don't have enough energy to actually go and do something new and exciting.

I hate my voice. I hate it so much. I hate my arms, too. I hate whatever my personality is. I hate how I can't even function as a "normal" 17 year old correctly. I hate how I keep on messing up and can't do anything right.

I hate being so sensitive. I hate how even hearing people just talk about heat and hot weather and high degrees in regards to temperature is basically a trigger for me and basically causes me to have panic attacks. I hate how it leaves me feeling like something lit my internal organs on fire and that I'm suffocating, but I'm too afraid to show it because I hate being noticed in public like that. I hate suffering in silence. I hate how much hearing others talk about hot weather and even just the sun and sun tans makes my body hurt so much. Like.. hearing others talk about heat descriptively? What kind of trigger is that? How does hot weather and the sun and tans cause you to hurt that much that it makes your stomach feel nauseous and your arms and legs to start shaking, Cutepups? How abnormal are you, Cutepups? You're a fvck up.

"Fire is a sign of my suffocation." Burning hurts. Even when there was no match to ignite the internal fire within me to begin with.

"Think positively!" Yeah right. That's so easy. Not thinking how much easier it'll be if I just die now than having to live another week. That'll suddenly just go away, huh? But it won't. It doesn't work that way.

Oh and I know my story is stupid. I don't know why I think I can change it to make it better. It's so bad. Everything about it sucks, so who am I kidding? Myself?

I know I'll just be suffering even more in the future.

Eww, I'm turning this into a pity party. Okay, but maybe I'll cry if I want to.

And yeah, I was referencing something just then. I am s crybaby and a pitiful person, anyways.

Duke cries a lot in the story. You could say he's a crybaby. But who's the real crybaby here? Me. I'm the crybaby. Even the smallest, most subtle hints of rejection and disappointment make me want to cry. It takes so much to hold it in and not cry.


Sometimes I think I can even physically feel serotonin leave my brain. But of course it doesn't work like that.

My head hurts. My eyes are burning. My stomach feels all twisted.

Okay, I'm done.

xxx