Look, I’m an asshole, this is something we all know.
For those of you who don’t, go fuck yourself.
I mean, here’s a little recap of the asshole that is moi:
I like pissing people off, especially when they’ve been assholes too.
Sometimes I play devil’s advocate even if I agree with what they’re saying and piss them off just because I like to test people and I think it’s kind of funny.
And sometimes I piss of people accidentally because, well, I’m a piece of shit.
I’m not self-loathing, it’s just who I am and I have little desire to change that about myself.
I want to see shitty people having a bad time.
I want to see their misery when they’ve actively, sometimes happily, caused others misery.
Thus, I want to see certain Trump supporters have a bad time. I want to see them crying, hurt, maybe some floundering in the streets. My heart would glow with a thousand suns or some shit if I witnessed such an event.
I don’t hate them, and–aside from some outbursty moments of rage–I don’t want to see them killed. I just want to see them suffer. Is that so bad?
For about two days I was really worried about saying how I felt here because I was really worried about what my boyfriend would think.
I’d seem unintelligent, hateful, no better than the conservative assbags.
And in fact, he’s the ONLY person whose judgement I worry about.
Honestly to a point that I catch myself not being true to who I am at times.
He’s kind, peaceful, caring, and passive and it’s all wonderful and beautiful.
Truly, I’m amazed by it.
Like, how does one even?
But I’m also so annoyed. I mean this guy is near some kind of fucking sainthood, and I’m sitting on the side more akin to a toxic witch from a Brothers Grimm tale.
And he once told me he loved me because of how I care about people…
Ugh. Right? Me? I just…
I seriously don’t give a single shit what people think of me, which is how I’ve become so happy and free and successful in my own way.
Then this guy comes along. Mr. Perfect. AND HE’S SO WONDERFUL AND NICE AND IT DRIVES ME CRAZY.
Crazy in love. Quoteth Beyonce. 😀
Yeah I hate me too sometimes.
When I asked why he was so kind and amazing, he just answered with, “because you deserve it.”
He said that like two or three weeks ago and I’m still just a fucking wreck over it.
I made myself admit how I really feel about this election and how I really feel about Trump supporters and all that shit. I made myself admit it openly and to him. He may not like this side of me, but I realize that sometimes I need to make myself not worry about that.
It’s who I am, and honestly who I want to be. I get angry. I throw fits. I hate shitty injustices. It’s no fun for anyone. Except maybe me. I’m chaotic good: “doing the right thing the wrong way.”
I like that I respect him, and that he’s one of the few humans that I respect. I like that I care about what he thinks of me. But sometimes, I need to make sure I can be myself and not behave differently.
He’s too good for me. That I know for a fact-o.
And I’m pretty cool shit, let me tell ya.
But, I wish I could do a better job at not censoring myself. It’s hard you know? It’s sometimes hard being such an openly shitty person while being in a relationship with someone who is just balls to the walls kind-hearted and understanding.
The worst part is that I’m catching myself being assy to him for no reason just because I’m frustrated with how differently we react to people.
Early in our relationship I didn’t notice he was like this. I knew he was kind, but overall he actually came off as aloof, had a dark sense of humor, almost seemed detached from everyone else.
I liked it.
But then I found out how he really is.
And I fell in love with that.
Fuck you Trump I blame you for this.
^(Please note sarcasm. Like how people blamed Obama for literally everything. Except actually fuck you Trump, you whorish fame-monger).