Today has been the longest day and it’s not even over. In fact, yesterday has bled into today and I feel like I can’t get any rest or catch my breath. It’s so hot and muggy in my room and I feel like I’m rotting on my couch again. I haven’t written or browsed anything on here for a while … or at least I think. I suck at keeping track of the time.

I was thinking about love, I don’t know why, as I do often and I stumbled upon the fact that things are transforming for me in that realm too. Earlier I was watching this video with these two women talking about their love life, or what venturing into queer relationships is like. To me that’s really anxiety inducing but at the same time the lack of connection in my life makes me feel very depressed. Anyhow, one of the women said her final advice was this: To have fun. If you were having fun then you were doing it right, and that if you didn’t want to do something then simply don’t. I get that when it gets down to it, life is much more complicated than that or at least I make it more complicated but how nice it would be to have simplicity like that.

I don’t know if I’m queer or not. I think I might be. I think I could love just about anyone because people are really super cool. But I don’t have experience with any gender or sexual orientation. As I’ve said before, people aren’t exactly lining up outside of my door.

It’s not healthy to seek validation from other people but I’ll admit that it makes me feel ugly. And maybe beauty is subjective but man I just wish someone thought I was beautiful. Maybe I need to be able to see myself that way before someone else can. I just have a really treacherous relationship with my body, it all goes wrong so quickly. Sometimes I look at myself and I think, I can love that person. But most of the time I can’t even bear to look in the mirror because it makes me want to cry. My body and my face haunt me.

I have just about everything that people find unconventionally attractive. Or at least many things. I know that social media isn’t an accurate representation of what people look like but it makes me feel a little freakish to look the way I do when there are so many beautiful people on this earth. And I wouldn’t judge anyway else for having the physical characteristics that I have but for some reason I can’t extend that to myself. I hate my body shape, my bone structure, my body hair, my stretchmarks, acne.

In specific my stretchmarks and body hair. I’m riddled with both. And maybe I sound too negative, I wouldn’t want someone else to read this and feel shitty if they have them too. But man does it feel bad. I look like someone dunked me in glue and rolled me on the floor of a hair salon. Well maybe that’s a little bit of an exaggeration, but I just mean I have body hair everywhere. I think that maybe that’s not so unusual and some people do. But then again I’ve only seen like one person naked and they were very pretty and hairless. Having body hair makes me feel gross. And it’s not even like I can remove it. I think that’s something that people who say rude things to me don’t realize. It’s not like I can simply shave or wax it off. I might be able to do that if I just had hair legs or hairy arms, but since I’m just hairy in general then I just have like a hair one piece swim suit if I shave my limbs. It’s ridiculous! So I don’t shave, I don’t remove any of my body hair, and I try to brave through. I try to keep my head high and snap right back when someone makes a rude or unwanted comments about my body hair. But it hurts anyway because it confirms that people think I’m as gross as I think I am.

My stretch marks are all over the place too. They’re really deep. Some people have the kind of stretch marks you can only see but mine you can feel as well. I try to avoid seeing them or showing them. I even avoid resting my hands on my body because I can’t stand feeling the texture under my finger tips. They’re all over my thighs. My hips. My butt. By calves. My arms. My breasts. And again, maybe that’s normal but how the hell would I know!

I try and think, if someone loves me one day then it won’t matter what I look like. They’ll be OK with it. They’ll see me for who I am and they won’t feel grossed out. But it’s really scary to allow someone to know you when you can’t stand to know yourself. And yet if I ever want love then I have to do that. I suppose that’s the challenge, allowing someone to know me in every way, including physically which is like my biggest nightmare, and pray to God that they won’t decide I’m not what they want after all.

I feel this constant separation between me and the world and the people out there. I feel like this stupid weird little creature. Oh whatever. Isn’t it so tiring to be so upset all the time?

I wish I could take myself less seriously. I’m a sentient meat blob with a hairy ass and stretch marks who will cry forever now. I mean that’s absurd. If it was up to me and my brain only, I would not allow half the things that hurt me to make me feel bad because frankly some of them are ridiculous. But sadly it’s not up to me to choose so instead I sit here, Chewbacca himself, and cry about being fat and gay and unloved. Isn’t life just hysterical? That being said maybe I should ask myself about these mood swings. I mean I was crying a second ago and now I’m sitting here very much over it.

So here’s what I’ve arrived at: I’m ugly and someone’s just gonna have to be OK with that, and if not, then dying alone sounds kind of fun. I hope someone kisses me before I die though. That sounds fun too.