Grumpy gone happy.

Brace yourselves, people who bother to read my whiney, pretentious, self-loathing, negative, hateful, cantankerous, judgmental views on life. You’re in for one hell of a ride. In fact, there are a lot of bases to cover here. So much so that I’m now opening up notepad and constructing a list… … … Ah, there; done. Oh God… That’s a BIG list. Ugh, I’m going to have to prepare myself for this. Wait there a minute, I’m going to listen to a little bit of The Flashbulb, muse about my life and smoke a cigarette.

There we go, I’m back. So where shall we begin? I mean, we could start with the most recent event that triggered me to write this blog and then get to work on the older stuff? What’s that I hear, cheers? Yeah. I’m up for that. LET’S DO THIS THING!!

So, what just happened? It’s now 00:50 on the 2^nd April 2012. The last year of the Mayan calendar, actually… but that’s (unfortunately) bullshit so that’s neither here nor there, is it? No. It’s not. Ladies and gentlemen of my blogging audience, I have just attempted to attend a pub viewing of “Wrestlemania”. I have never in all my life witnessed something that has made me so miserable to be who I am. All these people... my age – some might say ‘young – standing around and watching scantily clad men pretend to fight in front of a stupidly large live audience, along with cheering and applaud. These people watching this are incredibly happy. They’re having a GREAT time, and they LOVE what they’re watching. It reminds me of sporting events. I guess it is, in a sense. So I arrived at 00:10, paid my £3 entry (which included a beer) and went to the bar. What I saw, was many screens, some large, some small, showing this “Wrestlemania”. My God… they were all so happy. All of them, so fucking happy.

I mean, I guess I’m just a grumpy old cunt. Fucking, they all just LOVED IT. So, I arrived at 00:10, took my little paper voucher to the bar and got my pint of Carling at 00:30 (after 20 minutes of waiting), drank it as fast as I could without actually downing it and left. I would have left after 5 minutes was it not for my paying £3 admittance. God, I don’t regret a thing except going. I hate people. I hate sports and I hate being surrounded by idiots, which is what my consciousness is judging these people as. I went with Jack and Steph, Jack felt like I did, I think but he actually gives things a chance. He’s a better person than me. Steph was just grinning like a fucking retard and putting her hand over her face and squealing every time something happened or she saw someone. That just REALLY got under my skin. It makes me so angry, I don’t understand why. Being surrounded by happiness genuinely infuriates and confuses me. Although, at Download it doesn’t so much (though it did last year… hmmm…)

I’m a grumpy old cunt and I should probably just kill myself. Nothing I ever do will change the world. Nothing I ever do will ever be remembered and no one I ever know will tell stories about me to their children. And I will never find a woman within close proximity to want children with me. For all intents and purposes: My existence is moot.

But moving on from that happy note, there’s other things that have been touching my mind lately, such as the bizarre and cliché event that has happened with my love-life. Oh, yes. Something HAS been going on. And yes, it is something I’ve not really publicised, (That also bothers me, constant posts on facebook/twitter about how much person X loves person Y. Fuck off, NO ONE GIVES A SHIT). I mean, I would think no one gives a shit about my love life, but you’re nosey enough to read my blog, so you must a little bit?  

So, where to begin with my “love-life”? Fucking… I don’t know. I mean, I really do like someone, a lot. A hell of a lot. More than I’m willing to admit on here. To anyone other than the person in question, actually. And there’s a reason for that, a reason I’ve NEVER been bothered by in my life until now. And this is the stark realisation that must be written and confessed, to both her who’s more than likely going to read this and to myself. I am scared of judgement. Never before in my life have I given a shit what people think about me, but this is… I don’t know. Basically, the woman in question lives 3,202 miles away. In America. And I don’t know if you guys have gotten the idea of me before that I’m not really fussed by a sexual relationship, but I’m not. I want the companionship; that person to share everything with, to laugh with, cry with, look forward to talking to, want to talk to for hours on end and then actually talk to them for hours on end without getting bored… someone who makes you laugh, smile and cry with just a few words, someone who you want to talk about all the time, to show off, to share, to boast about and to never want to lose. The person I’ve been talking to, is exactly that person. To say she’s incredible would be an understatement and to describe her as perfect for me would be a weak description.

But I don’t want to forever be judged as “Jacob, that guy with the online girlfriend who never leaves the house. I don’t want people to make fun of me, or rip me down or laugh at me. I don’t want people to talk about me behind my back and tell people about what a loser I am. I’m not a loser, I’m… well, I am a loser. But I like being a loser! I love to hate going to Wrestlemania, I love to watch Professional Starcraft games on the internet instead of football. I love who I am.

A STARK REALISATION SETS IN.

I don’t care, world. I don’t care what you think about me. I don’t care what you say to me and I certainly don’t care if you want to judge me, because you know what? I’m judging you right fucking back. Because I’ve found someone who I GENUINELY care for, and who genuinely cares for me back. When I’m done writing this blog, I’m going to post it and when she starts reading it, I’m going to ask her to be my girlfriend. Because you know what, I love her and I’m not ashamed of that. I’m happy, I am. Obviously circumstances could be MUCH nicer, she could live nearby, she could not live in America and I could maybe not be now in that “weirdo” category for having an online relationship, but it’ll work. Because we want to make it work. We care enough for each other that the distance is just a molehill and not a mountain. You watch us. I’ll be happier than I can even remember being, and those times when we meet up, oh wow… how glorious they will be. Just try and stop me.

Now, moving swiftly on…

Actually. Fuck it. I was going to make this a massive post. I’ve got so much more to talk about, so much more to whine about and so much more to say about myself. But instead, I’m going to cut it short and leave you cunts hanging.

Peace out,

I’ll be back soon. There’s much to discuss.