edward fox's reality

Rated TV-PG for Mature Language.

Now, most people wouldn’t casually admit this, but this isn’t a casual accusation, either.

Never before have I been interested in someone who wants so much sex, and wants just so many guys in general, ever before. It’s fucking disturbing. Don’t you people know that you can get diseases from whoring around with a different guy each HOUR? Shit.

On this guy’s page, he had comments from three or more different guys, saying they should fuck, and that they’re down for whatever. That’s so fucking disgusting. You guys aren’t interested in actually getting to know each other. You’re just interested in sex. It makes me almost want to stay in Texas; nonetheless, I’m rather certain I’ll find someone in California that actually appreciates what I have to offer.

It’s sad when you’re rejected for physical attributes, though. I won’t go into detail about that, but I’m just disappointed right now. I’m not the skinniest person– I’m actually sort of fat. At least I admit to it, but I’m not like a disgusting fat. I’m just fat. I still look sort of cute, I think. That doesn’t give me an excuse to be overweight, but it sort of lessens the pain whenever I think about myself and how I look.

I just don’t understand how people can be so shallow. It’s funny, because I was actually called a player, yet I’m being played. This is so stupid. I can’t believe I’m interested in a slut.

You know what’s worse? The slut provides good conversation, and is fun to talk to. Who knows if anything could ever come from that. I’m not sure if anything ever could, seeing as they have been a huge whore before, and now.

Some of you may be thinking to yourselves, “Well, I’m hot and you’re not. You’re just a fat kid who is starved for attention because he can’t get any.” I’m sorry, but I’ve gotten plenty, and I never have a problem with getting some. I don’t just *want* some, though. I want to actually get to know someone… Why does it seem like the only problems I ever have are problems with the guys in my life? Maybe I should go straight. At least chicks aren’t cunts the way that these guys are to me.

It sucks because I still think there’s a chance that something may happen. I don’t want to just give up. I think it’s totally awesome that someone I’m interested in has so many other people interested in him as well…

It just disturbs me that all he wants from those guys is to just mess around. “Down for anything” is not in my vocabulary. Once I lose weight and move to California, I will not turn into a full-time student and full-time slut. I will not tell everyone I’m down for anything, or everything. I will not freely make out with everyone new I meet on MySpace, at school, or wherever. I want friendships. I want relationships. I want people to appreciate who I am inside, and once I lose weight, who I am on the outside, too. My self-esteem suffers because of the image of myself, and because of how guys treat me. It’s funny because that phrase is rather paradoxical: “Self-esteem” really doesn’t come from yourself, but rather (mostly) from those around you. Totally sucks. I’d love to generate more of my own self-esteem. I’m confident, but not about my physical appearance.

But it looks like personality can’t top that when you’re down for anything.

View the original blog post on MySpace, with comments.

I’ve been pretty satisfied lately. I’m making a lot of new friends, getting in touch with old ones (some who are sluts, but that was for the previous entry), and in general living a pretty good life. There are a few things I wish I could change about myself, and that’s feasible, but then there are things that I would like to change about how we treat each other, and I’m questioning if that is possible.

One of my friends– I’m not saying that sarcastically– told me what he thought would be a small lie–that he was going to get off the computer and rest, as he wasn’t feeling well. I just happened to be on MySpace all frikkin’ day long yesterday out of boredom, and noticed that he was still on, feeling rather well, replying to comments on his MySpace and completely ignoring what he had just told me.

This seems like a small thing. It actually is, and I’m not making a big deal out of it, but it makes me question how trustworthy people really are. If they can’t even tell me the truth about something this simple, how do I know they will tell me the truth when it comes to something truly important? That’s what I’m afraid of.

I consider this [person] to be a good friend of mine, though we only met recently. This doesn’t change the positive image I have about him, but it certainly does make me wonder about how exactly friends are supposed to treat each other.

If you read my profile (and I hope you do; it took forever and a day to make all those pretty graphics), you’ll see that I make a personal promise to everyone to not *lie* to anyone. I may deceive you on occasion, but that’s entirely different from lying. I believe in being honest with people, because wouldn’t you appreciate honesty from them?

Though this may sound like I just want everyone to be like me, I just feel like there are certain ethics we should follow when we around communicating with someone else. I think honesty should be one of them. Unfortunately, it seems like we live in an age where lying, deceit, and illusions all play into our daily lives.

I don’t know about you, but unless a depressed teen is starved for attention, they won’t admit to it. One of my exes from earlier this year would not answer the phone some weekends, and I wondered why. I thought he was upset with me. It turned out he was just crying in his room because life sucked. I’m grateful that he told me what was going on, and I let him know that I would be here for him whenever he needed someone to talk to. I appreciated his honesty.

Another one of my exes from this year actually admits to, and enjoys, being fake. One time, we were arguing on the phone, and he exclaimed, “I’m f**king fake and I f**king love it! Yeah, b*tch!” Though one of the shittiest people I’ve ever dated in my entire life, he did teach me a few things nonetheless about how fake people can be. This is unfortunate, because, I believe, in order to be fake, you have to lie about who you really are. That’s commonplace in our society now, though. If you’re anywhere near my age, you already know, and most likely do, what I’m talking about.

It just feels like I have to figure out what people are thinking now, because they aren’t willing to just tell me. I admire people who are honest, blunt, and direct. That would be the perfect guy for me, because they would let me know how they were feeling, and they would be deeply emotional with me as well (but that’s for another blog!)… but who said I didn’t want *friends* that I could share things with?

Hell, you have to make up some excuse like I’m your boss about how you can’t come into work today (and chat with me on AOL)?

But, as my friend Chris from California implies, I “trip” over little things. I’m not trippin’, yo. I’m just exhausted of all the B.S. that people shovel out to each other. Why can’t we believe that we can make a difference by BEING DIFFERENT? Is honesty that hard of an attribute to acquire and maintain now? Maybe I’m just being too honest.

View the original blog post on my MySpace blog, with comments.

They move around so quickly without ever getting a chance to know anyone… It’s disgusting. All my exes and guys I’ve dated are like that. It’s such a tragedy, because I really liked them, and cared about their personality, not about just getting some dick like they did. It’s really disappointing.

If you are offended by this post, then you are not the kind of gay guy I am talking about. I am grateful that there are still some like you out there.

To view all comments on this blog entry, go to the MySpace posting.

When class mixes with tastelessness, you get this. Alanis Morissette’s version of “My Humps”…. Enjoy.

Rated TV-PG for Mature Language. I’m sure “Fuck” wouldn’t have been said in “Ice Age,” but that’s for someone else to decide…

Why are we here? That’s a fairly odd question, isn’t it? It involves deep thought, provoking questions, and a bunch of other religious/technical crap that I don’t have time for…

…but one thing I can certainly do is question why we are here, and that’s what I’ll try to do tonight!

[Yes, this is the third blog entry in just 2 days. I'm hoping to write in this more often. It's a good release for emotions.]

I was let down tonight. I was all excited about meeting my new friend, Ivan, but somehow, it ended up falling through. I’m not sure about how or why it happened. All I know is that I was excited about it all day long, and I ended up sleeping the day away after I made it home, completely ecstatic about what was (supposed) to happen.

Does that mean that he didn’t want to see me? Doubtful. I am sure something came up. But then…

My ex calls me. It affected me. I am not sure why, but it did.

So with that, I ask you… why are we here? Is it to satisfy ourselves… the world’s need… or something else that we can’t even comprehend?

On the pilot episode of TNT’s “Saving Grace,” a show that I was instantly addicted to, Grace tries to get an angel to tell her if Heaven exists, and what it’s like, and what God’s like, and everything possible about the afterlife. Her questions were ignored. “You all ask the same questions,” replied her angel. “If I tell you everything, then where’s your faith?”

That’s what I think we don’t have enough of. Faith. We don’t believe things without seeing results. I’m one of those people. I think I should change that. I think I should be more positive.

But it’s not too easy being positive when negatives happen.

Pardon the language, but I had a shitty dream. I won’t go into too many details, but it involved my ex, and we were arguing. I guess that’s why I was affected by the phone call– we were arguing about phone numbers in the dream. The conversation on the phone, in reality, was perfectly satisfying. A little too satisfying.

Boy, am I fucking this one up.

I’m sure he won’t read this. That’s okay. I don’t write all of this for everyone’s enjoyment– I mainly write it for my own, to express thoughts that need expressing. I can’t go into too many details because then, where’s the faith?

I left voice mails for two different people yesterday. I’m 100% sure they’ll (a) never read this blog entry and (b) never know I was talking about them. I left brief messages, because we all know that most of the time, voice mails are ignored– they’re now treated like a missed call from an unknown number. Who cares? It’s just a voice mail, most of us say.

I’m one of the few that actually will check their voice mail as soon as possible. I can usually answer my phone anywhere, whether at work, home, or school, depending on how important the lecture is… but sometimes, I just can’t answer fast enough. Thankfully, there’s such an invention as a voice mail, but most people don’t even bother to leave me voice mails. I guess they assume that I received their missed call notification, even though I may not have had service at that time, which may have explained why I didn’t answer the call…

…but perhaps we didn’t think about that.

On top of that, I love people’s surprised reactions when they don’t even realize that they have a voice mail, while others blatantly will tell you, “Oh, I never check my voice mail.” OK, so disable it. You can do that? Seriously? Why yes, you can! It’s pretty easy. Dial “611″ from your phone (without the quotes, heh) and ask for it to be removed. Simple as pie!

But why would anyone want to do that? Perhaps that message was important, or maybe it could be saved to blackmail one of your exes! Who knows? The possibilities are genuinely endless, but without a truly plausible scenario for a voice mail (or so it seems), the reason for voice mails on cell phones is depleting. Now, it seems, text messages are taking extreme precedence over the need for voice mail. With text messages, they usually will receive it within a few seconds (unless they are in a poor coverage area). I know with Sprint, sometimes it would take up to an hour to receive a text. GSM networks (T-Mo, Cingular, etc.) are just better with this kind of thing.

But I don’t think that text messages should replace voice mails completely as far as importance. I think you should check your voice mail… it’s just a respect thing. Wouldn’t you want someone to do that for you?

It seems like we’re all losing respect…

…but that’s for another blog.

CHECK Yo’ MESSAGES.

Rated TV-14 for Mature Language. Bitch.

It doesn’t matter if you know the details of who I’m referring to, or as to what instances I am mentioning.

It doesn’t matter that as I cry now, I am crying because of the past, of what has become of me and my relationships, and what is becoming of them now.

It doesn’t matter that I don’t matter, it seems.

Why does the world care so little about someone who cares so much?

Perhaps I should become like every other heartless “prick” that you ladies and gentlemen can’t seem to deal with or want around. But do you know why they exist? Do you?

You did it to them. You heartless fucks.

That’s right. You created the ass hole, the bitch, the motherfucker. You created these words and shaped their meanings, and breathed life into the very depths of their creation. YOU. It was you, and your heartless, thoughtless actions. Congratulations. Feel proud of yourself– you’ve created a human monster.

That’s OK, though. You’ve expected that people could one day treat you this way. You’ve become accustomed to your own mistakes, then? Perhaps.

One thing I am is honest. I will not lie to you. I will never break your heart by you finding out some disgusting truth of me after the fact. That’s not who I am. I am sometimes blunt, but that goes with truth. I will NOT lie to you. I may deceive you, but we are all a deceptive people. That’s how we try to get our way. It may not always work, but we try… I am real… something that most people forgot how to be. I’m not afraid to show what I’m feeling and what I’m thinking. Everyone else who decides to conform to the ideal ways of thinking will further this problem of things that don’t matter… because it’s not your problem, is it? It’s mine? Really? Really? Really. Interesting. NO!

It’s not my fucking problem that you didn’t know how to treat someone else, and now, you created a human monster.

How can you people say you care, but show so little regard for who or what you are, and so little respect for what I am and stand for?

Maybe I’m just bitchy. That’s it.

When you’re in my position, feel what I feel, and you won’t be second-guessing what I’m saying as much. I guarantee it.

So why are we so fake? I think it’s an American thing. We don’t want anyone to really see who we really are. Rather pathetic, but that’s OK. We’re just a pathetic body of piss sometimes.

Oh I love you all.

Whatever.

If you love me, then I love you.

Really?

Really?

Really.

Interesting.