Underneath my yellow skin

Tired of being a freak

I’ve written before about the upside of being an outsider. This is not one of those posts. I have seen people on social media blasting the whole ‘introverts living their best lives’ themes, saying that they were introverts, but who is living their best life right now? The tone is ridicule/anger, and it makes me uncomfortable because while I’m not living my BEST life, I’m not suffering like other people are. Meaning, I’m not visibly more distressed. Yes, my sleepĀ  is more fucked up. Yes, I randomly want to kill myself, but it’s not an active feeling, and I have it during regular times as well. It’s not as intense then as it is now, but it’s there. Yes, I’m having way more family time than I want. Yes, I’m having a hard time focusing. But in general, I am less anxious than I am during regular times.

In addition, I don’t really miss hanging out with people. Granted, I didn’t do it much during normal times, but the reduction isn’t bothering me. The fact that I couldn’t do it chafed at the beginning of the lockdown because I don’t like to be told what to do, but in general, it doesn’t bother me now. The state is doing a soft open tonight at midnight for very depressing reasons (Americans suck as self-denial and no political will to go hardcore), and we haven’t even hit our peak yet. I’m resigning myself to another spike after the soft reopen, and I’m just grateful that I can do what I’ve been doing and ignore the soft opening all I want.

I don’t feel like I can say that I’m not any more stressed or anxious now than I was before. I know it’s because I had an unreasonably high amount of stress and anxiety before and that everyone has risen to meet my level, but it still doesn’t sound great when I say it outside. I also don’t miss being around people except sex. For whatever reason*, I want to fuck the next ten people I see. I’ve been rewatching Chiodini’s Kitchen (from Eurogamer, well, he was, now he’s at Dicebreaker and a DM extraordinaire), and one of them has the actual voice of Geralt from the Witcher series. Doug Cockle. Johnny was brewing a beer from the games at an actual brewery, and he sent a sample to Doug Cockle. Cut to the end where Doug is sitting in front of festive stuff, wearing a Santa hat. He talks a bit in his regular voice, tests the stout, and then says something in Geralt’s voice.

Full disclosure: Geralt is one of my vidya gaemz boos. I have the hots for him, and it doesn’t matter that he’s a video game character.

When Doug Cockle was talking in his regular voice, I was like, he’s a nice guy and he’s fine, but whatever. The second he slipped into Geralt’s voice, however, I wanted to bone him. I’m a sucker for a deep, husky growl.

Anyway, I’m tired of being a freak. I know it’s useless to think this way, but I wish I were more normal. I don’t have anything to talk about with most people, which is one reason I have an easier time being away from the masses. I’m not married, don’t have kids, don’t work outside the home, don’t care about most pop culture, don’t watch movies or TV for the most part, and I don’t drink. I’m not a Christian, and I don’t care about most societal things.

What I do like seem to be at cross-purposes with each other. I like Dark Souls, taiji (especially weapons), competitive reality shows as long as they are not nasty to each other, cats (specifically black), writing and reading murder mysteries, and that’s about it. I mean, I have other interests, but those are the main ones.

I also don’t care about typically feminine things. Cooking, sewing, makeup, and/or clothes. I’m feeling pretty disenfranchised because now makeup is back in again, and I just can’t be stuffed. I tried to wear it when I was in my late teens, but I always felt weird about it. It never felt natural, and at that time, there wasn’t as much awareness of allergies. I am allergic to everything which is another issue, and my skin was not happy about the crap I was putting on it. The day I realized I’d rather have an extra hour of sleep (theoretically) than waste time doing that to my face was a relief.

I am feeling isolated, but not because of the social distancing. It’s because I know that what I think is weird and strange, and I know that most people don’t want to be challenged.

Side Note: I’ve been watching some of the Eurogamer’s Christmas Quiz videos, and I really like Johnny Chiodini’s way of giving a quiz. Are these things true or false according to Johnny Chiodini? Which he asks at the end of every question. I now want to write a Dark Souls quiz and one of the sections would be, “Is this true or false, according to Minna Hong?” Sample question: Strength is easier in these games than is magic. True or false, ACCORDING TO MINNA HONG?”

I guess I don’t actually want to be normal because I can’t fathom wanting to be married, have kids, wear makeup/heels, go to church, like pop culture, etc. I don’t mind not wanting those things–indeed, I’m pretty happy not having/wanting kids. However, I just feel amiss as to passing as norm in this society. It’s even worse because I’m not freaky enough for the freaks, either. I don’t do drugs or drink, though I’m much freer in the sex realm. More to the point, I don’t like being around people who drink or do drugs, either. I hate being the only sober person at a party, and it’s happened more often than not.

I just don’t see what’s the point. America is fucked. We’re not doing what we need to do in order to get in front of this. Hell, I’m not even sure we know what that is because there is so much conflicting information. The ideal thing is complete lockdown, but no way that’s going to happen. The second best thing is that everyone practices proper social distancing, complete with masks, gloves, and goggles. That already isn’t happening, and I don’t see it happening more in the future. If anything, I see it happening even less.

I’m a fatalist at heart. I think we’re fucked. Americans are not about to be told what to do for any given length of time. Many will die, and it’s frustrating as hell because some of it could have been prevented. But it won’t. I’m also mad because I’m in one of the groups considered higher risk and therefore expendable. I already knew that society in general did not give a shit about me, but it’s sobering to hear it actually being said.

I’m done. I just can’t any longer.




*Sex as a reaffirmation of life in the face of uncertainty and death, blah, blah, blah.

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