I’ve had to come to terms with a lot of things lately. The one that should have been most obvious is that I am social repellant. Or is it repellents? I’m being told both spellings are correct and I am terribly confused which to use. You might be sitting in your chair or reading this on your phone kicking your kids in the face thinking I’m insane for calling myself social repellant. How can someone so endearing be cancerous to society? I’m just as confused as you are. I’ve got a lot going for me. I’m smart, I remember all the funniest lines from Family Guy and I’m always sure to repeat them over and over again, I eat vegetables, I tell women they look fat when they do, and I never give dogs chocolate. I have “fun person” written all over me! So why is it that I still seem to be a tiki torch to all the mosquitos in the world?
(One time I met Jeff Probst. He clubbed me in the head)
The first time I ever remember being repellant was the second I was born. My parents always wanted a girl because the thrill of throwing a child off a cliff out of disappointment was something lots of parents in the 1980s wanted to experience. Since I had a penis I had to be given medicine to survive. My younger years I didn’t so much feel like I was repellant as much as I felt like kids were dickholes. The only two significant moments I remember from being young and feeling left out were as follows: the first happened during recess and I was the second to last pick and I celebrated not being picked last. My teammates still seemed a little upset and made sure to not throw me the ball. The other happened in 5th grade when I heard the girl I had a crush on say “I want everyone to sign my yearbook except for Tim and Dan.” Dan was the biggest loser anyone knew. He was so lame even when girls insulted him I got to go ahead of him.
As I got older rejection was more common. When we’re young kids we’re forced into accepting everyone. As we get older people have more flaws and they’re easier to pick on. Girls were and still are something I often feel like a bottle of black flag around. There was no particular instance when I felt like the entire female race was out to ignore me but it was a definite feeling. I knew it was getting out of hand when a black girl stood outside my classroom saying “You bitch! I fucking hate you. You suck” and I thought she was talking about me and not the bitch that sucked and everyone fucking hated that sat behind me.
The one moment I always go back to in my head where I felt most like garlic to a vampire or a carbohydrate to a True Blood vampire was one time when I went out in an attempt to be social. It was at a karaoke night at Hoolihan’s restaurant chain. The waitress was very flirty to everyone because she knew them all. I thought “Hey, I’m a new face. She might want to know what I’m all about.” Nope. She didn’t even acknowledge my existence. Someone making $3 an hour plus tips ignored me. I was crushed. I was so crushed I wrote a poem/song about it.
(True Blood vampires shirtless for no real reason at all other than to remind us we’re watching gay porn without penetration)
I was going to post the poem but after reading it it’s a really bad debut poem except for the “chorus.” Since I did want to post some old poetry I wrote at some point I will post something I actually don’t think is half bad. Don’t worry, all my poems/songs I still have saved (all 44 of them) are about rejection, darkness, Satan, and suicide. Oh, happy day. Why did I choose this poem? It has a very good AABBCC flow to it. The other one didn’t rhyme throughout ergo was not as good.
Better In The Dark (written in 2009)
I’m the glass spilt over the edge of the table
You’re the electricity running through your copper cable
We’re the fear that causes you to sweat
They’re the face of evil you have not met
When I come around, do I need to bark?
I’m a man who looks better, in the dark.
You’re the object in all of my dreams
We’re the stitches that keep me together at the seams
They’re the hate I desire to want
I’m the wish if I had I would flaunt
When you come around, do you think I will hark?
I’m a man who looks better, in the dark.
We’re the birds that sing in the morning
They’re the heat that gives pain without warning
I’m the love in which we want to share
You’re the tears in the eyes of those without care
When we come around, do we hit the mark?
I’m a man who looks better, in the dark.
They’re the observers of what they cannot believe
I’m the madness that a paranoid mind will weave
You’re the innocence that would never do what we can
We’re the tumble of a broken man
When they come around, do they feel the spark?
I’m a man who looks better, in the dark.
Mooselicker 