Saturday, June 28, 2008

On Being A Loser

Ah, it's been long overdue for me to write something about this topic for a long time. Treat it as a love letter dedicated to who I really am. In case you have kind and consoling words regarding the matter at hand, spare me from them.


I am a loser. No shit. Always have, always will be.

It all started when I was still in grade school. People picked up on me since I was not the one to retaliate or offer them a fist in their faces the minute they begin riling up on me. I was mostly the butt of their jokes, the one ridiculed, and nobody really cared if I was treated that way.

I befriended one of my classmates around this time for a reason that I can never fully explain or explicate up until now. All he did was cause me torture and agony every time I was with him. One time, my childhood friend heard my classmate berate and cuss me at our home. I was used to the constant castigation my classmate dishes out, but it was the first time my childhood friend heard it. Suffice to say, he wanted to put beat the shit out of my classmate, something that I couldn't done before but simply didn't. Because I'm a wuss. And dumb.

I have to give credit where credit is due. He definitely made my life a living hell. I hated going to school because I'll see his stupid face and take the brunt of his stupid ways. I hate the fact that I was reduced to shit during class where I had to sit next to him. So kudos to him, really. A real asshole.

I simply don't understand the stupidity of adolescence trying to be tough and full of it, which is why I fell victim of such treatment. Seriously, there's nothing really worse than teenagers trying to act like they're oh-so-cool. After realizing that I was completely a tad different (i.e. loser) than the other guys at our school, I decided to drift into obscurity and keep a low profile ever since. This was around high school.

I never really had friends. Outside from childhood buddies, school did not produce people whom I felt comfortable with, save for two. The bullying had a profound effect in me that I slowly but surely develop hatred towards everybody. With the exception of a number of people, I hated my classmates who tried to look cool and belong to a clique, hated school for making me mingle and rub shoulders with such students, and hated pop music. Therefore, I was seen most of the time by myself. The only company that I enjoyed were two people who shared my fascination for Starcraft and Tekken, as well as Alice In Chains, Faith No More, and other heavy metal outfits who expressed juvenile hatred like its the most profound emotion ever. "Dirt" by Alice In Chains was my theme song and I took the lyrics to heart simply because I feel exactly like the song.

I never socialized with my classmates, never went to the majority of their wonderful functions, and never attended prom. That's because I never made a female friend until my second year in college.

College was a breath of fresh air at first. I began the first few months of my college life alone at the library sleeping or brushing up on the assigned readings. Soon, I met students who turned out to be good people and shared the same gift of gab that I possess. All the while as I was hanging with them, I felt a certain pleasure that I haven't experienced before around with other people. I thought, maybe I was finally cured from being what I really am. Maybe people aren't really shitty as I thought they are. However, good things don't often last long.

Once you expose your shortcomings and faults to people, they will start turning their backs on you. I felt this the strongest during my senior year. I started exhibiting characteristics of a recluse around this time, eating along at the most desolate and isolated bench in school. Strangely, I like the fact that I am this way, going about my clumsy and geeky ways without the company of others. This was also around the time that I was completely distraught by, you guessed it, a girl.

I was always afraid to mess shit up because one I do, it's all over. A single trip, a wrong word slipping from my mouth, all of these things I cannot bear to think of happening. The worst thing of it all is that messing shit up is always inevitable. It was bound to happen sooner or later. And it happened to me, to her. From their, I never really fully recovered up until half of the year was spent.

All of these memories rushed back to me just a full week ago, also from a particular slipping of the mouth. Again, it was inevitable. The bullying, the isolation, the difficulty of being alone, the rejection, the inadequacies, shortcomings, and other bullshit. It all came full circle.

Yes, I am a loser.


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