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.

How is it that I can give advice to uplift people and be so overwhelmed by my own emotions? That’s the situation I put myself in every day, and I seem to lose no matter what I do.

I am not pleading for anyone to feel sorry for me. This is an attempt for me to understand why people abandon me, and how I can’t do the same to them, and how I always look for friendship and love in the wrong places. This really could be something that is written in a diary, but if it helps someone else, then posting this publicly was worthwhile. Take what you will from this. If I don’t mention something, then I don’t feel it. There is no deep meaning to beyond what I have already expressed, so take what I say with great importance and don’t assume that issues are further complex than I already make them out to be.

I can hardly think for myself. I can hardly think about myself. My heart is going to explode under the constant strain I put it through. I feel physical and emotional pain - more physical pain than I can handle all from within my chest. I feel like at any moment, things will get even worse. It’s amazing because it would take just a few selfless actions for people to change all of that. The people I have invested the most time in lately have abandoned me effective today. I am completely void of receiving any caring from anyone at this time. No one gives a shit. Do you understand that, people? At this very moment, there is not a person on Earth thinking about my safety, well-being, emotions, state of mind, and most importantly, my heart. Not a one. My mom doesn’t give a shit. You don’t, because you’ll read this and just think I’m being emo (tional), and think that I act this way a lot…

Oh shit. I do.

Why is that? You must think because I perhaps (a) enjoy drama; (b) enjoy involving other people in my sorrow; (c) exaggerate problems; or (d) think I am better than you. Sadly, all of these conclusions are tragically inaccurate. It’s this way of thinking that causes people to not care for me. I just want one person to do that. Can’t anyone? I’m being selfish here - everyone deserves to feel selfish once in a while, don’t they? We need someone to look out for us once in a while, and right now - no one wants to take that opportunity. No one wants to give me a lame “It’ll be okay.” No one wants to give me a better explanation as to why this is happening. No one wants to even read this. What’s worse is the people that aren’t here for me will know that I am talking about them, and they will take this personally. They will think I am insulting them, degrading my opinion of them, or attempting to make them feel pity.

You know, those are mostly false.

I am not insulting anyone. Just because you are not here for me means you are human - you cannot make the time for another human being because you are too occupied by things that are more important to you. Furthermore, my opinion overall of the human population is declining steadily with each day I live. I try harder and harder to be friendly and caring. I always listen to what everyone has to say. I become immediately interested in what any of my friends have to share with me. Never once will you hear me say, “Let’s talk about something else. Your topic is boring me.” People love saying that to me, though. I just want someone to appreciate what I have to say. I want them to for once make a change in how they do things, and do something selfless, truly selfless. I don’t want you to do it because you feel obligated to. I want you to do it because, in your heart, you know it’s the right thing, right now. Right now - that’s all that matters. You don’t have the future; you never will. Do you know why? Because we always live in the present. We need to worry most about what is going on in our lives right now… and if we care for someone else, hopefully they care for us as well, then we need to show it. We don’t need to say it. We can’t just act it. We need to be it. We need to know that we are. We can’t say, “I care about you” and then have that change a day from now, or an hour from now, when you are busy enveloping yourself in happiness. It should be hibernating, ready to awake at the right opportunity to assist someone else.

We all want someone else to care about us, right? I just wish someone really did care as much as I did. That will be the day that I can stop feeling this way.

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.

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?

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.

That’s how I feel right now. I’m not disappointed, though. I know things will look up. I just hope he knows that I care deeply for him and hope the best for us… I do.

The Higher presents “Rock My Body,” a rock song with a very different message than the title implies… Blog post to follow shortly. If you care to listen to the song, click here: [link] This can be everyone’s cup of tea… and wait until you get to the final 30 seconds. You’ll completely fall in love with it. Even with that said, my mood is not the best… Things are going on and they hurt, so without further ado, the lyrics for “Rock My Body.”

I thought the way that she moved meant the way that she tasted,
I could rip the seams right through her lips,
A captivating experience that left me here,
That intoxicating kiss,
But tonight, I’m setting all my memories aside,

So why don’t we trace the footsteps back into our past with the ones we’ve lost?
Too many bad mistakes were made,
No one should have to take the fall for it, when it’s our life to live,

Go, you move we go, now don’t go,
You move we don’t, now go,
Now don’t you move, we won’t go, now don’t go, go,
Found out the way that he moved,
Found out the way that he tasted,
Then he ripped the seams right from her lips,
Never thinking the first time that they met, would be the last she saw of him,

Is glamor an issue while balancing reason?
Are we all waiting to destroy
The things in life we are made of?
A blessing we’re tasting,
And come so fond to recreate,
I can feel the expansion, resembling patterns,
Disguising everything, and what we have to relate,
And it’s all for this one dance,

So why don’t we trace the footsteps back into our past, with the ones we’ve lost?
Too many bad mistakes were made,
No one should have to take the fall for it, when it’s our life to live…

I am watching over you from the stars,
Don’t be scared, I know exactly where you are,
And there’s a piece of me and it’s burning in your heart,
Even death could never tear us apart…