edward fox’s reality

If you have a crappy computer or a shitty monitor, feel free to ignore this blog entry, as you won’t be able to appreciate the full awesomeness of the apparel I am about to present you with. If you do, and you’re not a broke ass, continue to enjoy this entry.

So I’m a fat, obese fuck. Oh, some of you think I’m exaggerating. I am being completely serious and medically accurate. I used to be at a BMI as low as 24.5, which is still borderline on being overweight (not to be confused with a BMI of >30, which is considered obese, and >35, which is extremely obese)… my BMI has shot up to ~31.5 within two and a half years, and that is sick, literally.

I know I take a lot of pictures that make me seem slimmer than I really am, and honestly, if you all thought I was fat at all in some of my other pictures, you guys were too stuck-up, even for me. I weighed 40-65 lbs. less in some of my older pictures, and I want to get down to that weight, and lower, way lower. I know that I will never be a twig– I don’t plan on wanting to be. I am not a femm; I am a straight-acting guy and I don’t need to slim down to fit in girl jeans. I want to look hawt, and to me, not wearing clothes meant for your gender (unless there’s some hawt shirt which could pass off as a guy’s shirt, too) is not attractive at all in my book. I feel sorry for your genitals, silly boys with tiny balls.

So I found inspiration to correct this health and emotional issue. That’s right — there’s not one minute of every day that I don’t think about my weight. I don’t understand how extremely overweight/obese people can feel comfortable and continue to eat unhealthy food. That said, I no longer eat fast food. I will eat out once a week or every other week, but that is an extreme reduction compared to how I used to eat. I used to eat a nice greasy breakfast (which isn’t bad seeing as your metabolism is highest in the morning and gets it started early). I’d follow that up with a decent lunch from never just one fast food joint– usually two. I would hit up McDonald’s for two or three burgers (no joke), and then go to Taco Bell for a few tacos and nachos. Sick, eh? Dinner usually ended up being served up by Taco Bell and McDonald’s again. Totally sick. I saw Supersize Me but it apparently didn’t get to me much.

So. What will?

I am grateful for Comedy Central. This will be the first, and probably only, time which I will say such a ludicrous thing. I received my entire value from it, though, when I was watching George Lopez. He was pretty entertaining tonight, sans his obnoxious stereotypes of Mexicans and crackers, but then he was followed up by a morbidly obese Hispanic which caught my attention. He was featured on MySpace secret stand-ups (comedians) and once again, he was invading my life, and perhaps this happened for a reason. Presenting, the extremely greasy, fat, disgusting, filthy bastard known as Gabriel Iglesias:

Don’t get me wrong– I enjoyed his comedy, but for someone that huge to refer himself as “fluffy” is just sick. He’s not fluffy– he’s fucked up. There wasn’t a five-second period during the entire two-hour show that I didn’t think about his weight and how unhealthy this poor bastard must be…

He is now my source of extreme inspiration for weight loss. When I have reached my final goal (yet to be determined), I’ll write him a long letter, along with photos I will have taken along the way to my success, showing him that he can live a healthier life as well.

That said…

In the coming blogs, I will present my favorite clothing and accessories from my favorite design label, Diesel. I’m sorry that I am not a slave to Prada, D&G, or A&F. These brands irritate me, and are such clichés. I am grateful that I have better taste than those mentioned. To inspire me and others, I will be giving a new selection of clothing articles in each volume/edition of this series. Each selection will remind me to contribute to what I now call my Diesel Clothing Fund, and you are more than welcome to contribute, seeing as each set of 3 items will cost around $500 on average. This is an extreme goal, and this will be extreme weight loss.

I will be carrying around a picture of that fat greasy bastard, and may build my selection as time goes on. There are two very obese co-workers at my current job, and whenever I get a new phone with a working camera, I will take pictures and save them for easy access wherever I am, whenever I have an urge to gorge myself as I so often did and still somewhat do. It’s time for me to take control of the only part of me that upsets me.

I enjoy being a pretentious twit. I enjoy being selfish. I enjoy being a fucker. I enjoy the way I am. I enjoy being able to speak out. I like having an amazing speaking voice that some people mistake for apathy. I love not having to have sex with everyone to feel good about myself. I love still being able to appreciate the rest of me even though I don’t look fantastic on the outside. I long for the day that my current skills of being a bastard, fucker, bitch, come to equality with the outside me. Of course, you guys will love me then, because more attractive people get to be twits.

My plans are basically making more money by doing web design. This will be a lot easier once the economy improves (at least a little bit). I also look forward to perhaps moving up to a better position within the next year or two at my job, perhaps to the IT department. It would be nice to boost my salary by 125%, right? Ah, dreams, dreams. Let’s make this shit a reality. Whether you support me or not, I’ll be moving forward. I’d prefer if you don’t support me — it’ll make this shit a lot easier.

The only people that I know will support me every hour of every day are Eric and James. The rest of you can do as you please. Feel free to take this advice and mold it to your own liking. If anyone has any other supportive ideas, feel free to let me in on it! If it works well for me, I’ll be more than happy to give you a gift card to any restaurant or retail store of your choice ranging in various dollar amounts. I look forward to your ideas, and I hope you look forward to my continuing series, and next time, I’ll be providing more enticing pictures– I promise.

Here’s one pretentious prick signing off for tonight. I love you Eric, always. You will always be my brother. I love you, James, though you won’t see this for God knows how long. You’ll always be my boy.

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.

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.

Ever gone to a restaurant where they had fortune cookies? Of course you have. I thought these cookies’ messages, however, were particularly meaningful. Have a look for yourself!

This was what I was presented with from two separate fortune cookies, while sitting next to the great guy I’m dating, Danii! [B] [MS] I had never opened a fortune cookie with any message like that, let alone two of them in a row. I don’t know… maybe it means something. I’d like to think so! :]

It’s always great hanging out with Danii. You never know what’s going to happen next, and he’s so relaxed and laid back that I’m comfortable with whatever happens (or doesn’t).

Life is what it is, and it’s what we make of it. Sometimes, you have to take risks. You have to believe that maybe there’s someone trying to tell you something, and that something may be real. Maybe this is what we’ve hoped for all along…

<3 you Danii!

Also, something too cool to take note of…There’s only one number in common on both fortune cookies, Danii’s age! :] Cool…

For the original, inspiring blog entry, please click here: (http://blog.myspace.com/index.cfm?fuseaction=blog.view&friendID=68694875&blogID=242742638)

I guess people are different.

When people meet me, they expect someone serious and boring… and maybe I am.

They expect me to understand everything, but I don’t.

I don’t even understand myself.

They take advantage of me, always have, always will,

but I guess it gives me a purpose.

I may come off as disrespectful,

but I don’t try to be.

I guess people just have issues with me.

I can’t control my emotions sometimes, and I’m just me.

I am not the most social person, but I try to be.

What do people want me for? I can’t find a reason as to why anyone would bother talking to me most of the time…

Money doesn’t mean anything to me, expensive vehicles don’t mean anything to me. I just search for solace.

Maybe I already found that person, who could give me this, but I lost them…

Maybe that’s not enough…

Maybe I’m not enough.

All I am certain of, is that is enough for now.

—

Peter, I love you… No matter how many times I may act fucked up, confused, emotionally unstable, angry, disoriented, confused, pissed… it’s me.

—

“Patience” by Take That
To listen to this song, go to my MySpace page.

Just have a little patience

I’m still hurting from a love I lost,
I’m feeling your frustration.
That in any minute all the pain will stop.
Just hold me close, inside, your arms, tonight,
don’t be too hard on my emotions

(Chorus)
‘Cause I, need time.
My heart is numb, has no feeling.
So while I’m still healing,
Just try, and have a little patience.

I really wanna start over again,
I know you wanna be my salvation.
The one that I can always depend.

I’ll try to be strong. Believe me,
I’m trying to move on,
It’s complicated but understand me.

‘Cause I, need time,
My heart is numb has no feeling,
So while I’m still healing,
Just try, and have a little patience, yeah
have a little patience, yeah

‘Cause the scars run so deep,
It’s been hard,
But I have to believe.

Have a little patience,
Have a little patience,

Woah, Cause I, I just need time,
My heart is numb has no feeling,
So while I’m still healing,
just try, and have a little patience,
have a little patience,

My heart is numb, has no feeling,
So while I’m still healing,
just try, and have a little… Patience

Some random blog that was apparently moderately respected (because I happened to read it and so did a few thousand other people) posted rules about blogging. One of the rules was avoid abstract blog titles. Make the titles clear and to-the-point. That’s why, lately, all of my blog titles have been rather wordy. Either it’s expanded to have both an abstract and direct meaning in one clause, or it’s broken down into two so that I can have an abstract thought (in tonight’s case, “Anatomy of a Bastard Child,” which really has nothing to do with me since I had a dad and I still do–he just happens to not live with me and happened to not attend my high school graduation) and a clear, concise, to-the-point clause (”We Lose What We Want”) as well. So, there you have it. I’m modifying my writing for the masses, because what you people think counts.

Right.

Wrong.

What’s wrong? Wrong is that we are being told how to write things. Why is it more effective? Better? Wouldn’t we figure this out after writing enough? I happen to enjoy abstract titles. Why? Because it makes you read the whole thing. Sometimes… 90% of the time, I can’t sum up what the blog is about in less than five or ten words. But I digress… with intention.

So lately, I’ve been feeling ungrateful. This is a challenge in life because I think we all want something better than what we already have, but I believe there is a breaking point. The breaking point is when we start losing things we didn’t even realize we wanted or needed.

To go further, I’m specifically talking about friendships and relationships. Sometimes, we don’t realize what we had until it was lost. We didn’t care enough about it to begin with, but then, once it’s lost, we realized how much it was valued. We were hoping for something better, but what we already had was best.

I’m not talking about anything specific here. This has happened to anyone and everyone, including me. I realize now that things are not as bad as they seem, and sometimes, what we already had was the best that we could have had.

Why is it that we are not happy with what we have? I guess it’s because we are raised to reach certain expectations set by our parents, and these expectations include getting the next bigger, better thing. It’s just a tragedy that we fall victim to wanting more all too often when our lives would have been perfectly complete with what we originally had…

It’s that time again. It’s time to recall the past; it’s time to cry over what we have lost, and what we still have. It’s that time again– the time to realize who we are, what we are, what makes us, what breaks us, what fakes us.

I recently had a relationship end… It doesn’t feel like it ended. I didn’t want it to end, but it did. Stuff just happens, right? It’s unfortunate that this happened.

I don’t know who I am sometimes. Now’s the time where I call up all of my friends, trying to take up the time that I would be using to talk to him on the phone…

Now is the time where I distract myself from the reality that’s been placed in front of me…

The pain will end soon enough. Yes, it will. I will miss it. I will miss you.

The best is what I wish for you, Peter.

Madi Don’t Leave by PlayRadioPlay
It takes a lot to phase me
I’m pretty stable, I’m pretty sane.
But I’m looking at my future,
and God do I have to lose her?
We shared conversations on how we’re all just floating
Through space and nothing matters.
I’m looking for a pattern.

Is it possible to say,
Baby lets run away to the East Coast?
Or Seattle? Corpus? Or Saint Marcus?
I’ve got a credit card, and a reliable car.
Let’s drive…to Pennsylvania.

Madi dear, can’t we just disappear
And take our chances on a teenagers romances?
Put our money where our mouth is?

It takes a lot to make me
Pretty angry and very sad.
I’m looking towards the outcome,
there must be some hidden reason.
We shared kisses upside down and on your old quilt,
By your computer I was hoping, your garage as it opened.

Is there any way you could change schools
And stay up here in Fort Worth?
Cause you’re what I look for.
I got a hopeless crush,
maybe that don’t mean much to you,
But I’m hoping this could keep going.

It’s six a.m. and ice cream is the first thing on my list.
And PEZ improves our kisses, after so many misses.

The past few weeks have been a huge challenge for me. I don’t exactly know why, but sometimes, we don’t need a reason to feel a certain way. Before I get into the letdowns of life, I want to first talk about happiness and sadness, and why the two go hand in hand. If you already think you know what I’m going to say, then you can skip past the next paragraph.

The number-one emotion we try to get rid of and stop feeling is sadness. This is obvious because no one likes feeling sad. Unfortunately, I believe that this emotion also ties back to happiness. We all love being happy, otherwise we wouldn’t call that feeling that we feel “happy.” We would label it melancholy or neutral or some other word that is obscure but relates enough to what we feel that it makes our complacent selves feel more in the know of what we don’t know about the being inside us. Now, with that said, how often do you try to shake off other emotions? It’s not done very often. Jealousy, anger, and happiness, are just some examples of emotions that we don’t always try to suppress. Perhaps that is because we feel like these are things we should not contain. We should not be forced to contain our disdain (song title, anyone?) with anything…

This is a stub of a blog entry. It was never finished and was originally written on January 19, 2007 at night.

Rated TV-14 for Mature Language. How Tasteful!

This may confuse you at first, but as you read it, you’ll hopefully understand what the difference is from how I was just last week, and months ago, to now. Enjoy!

Consider this. You are at home, enjoying some music. You message your friend asking if he would like to hang out. He says “Sure, why not?” You say, “Great!” and add it to your Google Calendar. All right, maybe you’re not this nerdy, but you make a mental note of the occasion. You’re all excited, and then as you’re still online about thirty minutes later, your friend says that unfortunately he cannot spend time with you because of unforeseen circumstances. Basically, he can’t hang out. “That sucks” is your reply, and he goes on about his newly scheduled business. Basically, he goes on with the crap he has to do that he doesn’t want to do. You go back to your music and MySpace-ing. See? I told you I was talking about YOU!

All right. So why did I give this cheesy example? Simple! It is because I wouldn’t have been able to do this not even a week ago… I want to let everyone in on a little secret…

Aside from being bi-polar (unanticipated secret #1?!) and needing to take medicine for mood stabilization and ADD [attention-deficit disorder] (secret two, anyone?), I also take medicine for a very, very mild form of psychizophrenia. But don’t go hiding from me now, because all these medicines have finally clicked in and arrived at a wonderful unison. Basically, they all fuckin’ work, finally. So that means that I can go out in public and not feel like everyone’s staring at me while also feeling the urge to talk to everyone and tell my life story while not realizing they don’t care and then get angry at them. In order from left to right, that’s obsessive-compulsive disorder, which is mild psychizophrenia, very mild that it just called OCD instead; ADD; then bi-polar disorder when my mood randomly switches from hot to cold by small events that would seem relatively uneventful to someone else.

Relatively… uneventful. Now is it making sense? I hope so.

Basically, I can enjoy going out or staying at home, and that is something I was never able to do. Whenever I sat at home, I couldn’t just be myself and enjoy my own company, like many people can do. But, now, I finally can, and it feels really nice, because remember the thing about hanging out? Yeah, that happened to me yesterday. And I didn’t mind.

Don’t get me wrong. This isn’t a bad thing, for people who are social, friendly, and open to meeting new people. Do these qualities describe you? If so, then we’ll get along fine. However, if you are negative, a pain in the ass, antisocial, or a mix of these, also known as how I used to be, then I’m sorry, my ex-friend, but it seems like we will no longer be compatible. It’s really heart-breaking that I have to say that, because I know a lot of my friendships are going to be swapped around and out, as they have been lately, but that’s how life is. The only constant is change, said by Jose Jimenez, and probably 20,000 other people on this glorious earth.

I was explaining this to Javier, and went through the fundamentals of why I feel this change and how I know it happened. I did catch myself before I confused both of us too much, and so I’m going to give a brief breakdown of how I know this is different. I’m not going to give too many details, but I want everyone to have a fair understanding of what’s going on. Basically, I’m going to rep’ who I am now. Aiight?! Aiight. Here’s how it be.

A few days ago, I started feeling differently. I wasn’t bothered by little things. I started driving slower. I wasn’t in a rush all over the place. I stopped getting randomly pissed off… It all clicked. I was normal. I am normal, and it feels nice.

Some of you may not understand… but I am who I have always wanted to be. Granted, I have a few extra pounds on me, and my hair’s curlier than I’d like it to be, but inside, it’s me, and that’s who I want to be. It’s a crazy development that finally took place after many years of being negative and hateful, but I’m ready to be part of the real world.

Simply put, the types of people that I’m drawn to now aren’t the same as before. The people I like talking to now are friendly and open-minded… This was different from before. I don’t mind anyone who disagrees with me. I don’t mind people who choose to live their life the way they want to, as long as they let me live mine the way I want to. Welcome to Normality, and here’s a cheers to all of us who truly live it.

I’m happy I can finally be me. There’s no imitation now. No more waiting… It’s all me, now. For real. Aiight?! Aiight.

P.S. Hope that cleared it up, Javier. Heh.

Deranged Editor’s Note: Don’t take this blog too seriously, or seriously at all. Sometimes, I just have to release anger, when there’s too much of it, through my blog.

Ever eaten Life, the cereal? I don’t think I ever have… but, thankfully, it’s irrelevant to this topic.

Rated TV-MA for Mature Language, Disturbing Reality.

If we had the ability to taste our own lives, how would it taste like? At the moment, I think I would rather eat shit than what life is feeding me right now. Fuck you, world. That’s right. I’m pissed as hell, and this is my blog and I’ll sound however mentally insane as I want to and as my mom thinks I am.

Let people do whatever the fuck they want to. They will anyway. It doesn’t really matter what you say. No, it doesn’t. You’re just there, just like they are. We are all just here. Let’s completely ignore our surroundings and see how far we get. Let’s completely ignore what people communicate to us and think we know everything, mother, and then everything will be A-fucking-OK.

This goes to all the other smart alecks I dealt with today. You’re not better than me. I’m not better than you. Get that through the brain I question you have.

I was not put on this earth to be abused, insulted, raped of my ability to freely function and be happy. I did not get to where I am now just so that I could be degraded all fucking day long by the bitch I am not proud to say I am the son of. Fucked-up home? I don’t know–I’ve seen worse. Fucked-up life? Eh. It’s up there. Fucked-up everything? Or fucked up everything? That’s what I’m not sure of… and it freaks me out.

Life fucks you over. But… if we’re still here, there’s still hope. Till a new day begins…