The Bloody Fucking Double Standard

I don't ask for much, but there are certain things that when others expect them of me, I would hope they would do the same. For example, I like to study with music- but if someone comes over and I know they may not like studying to the music I like, I turn it off- or they turn it off themselves, and I make no protest. Go to their house and it is a totally different story- you want to watch some children's movie because you are thinking about your niece- ok...fine! BUT CAN'T YOU FUCKING WAIT UNTIL I LEAVE (which would be about 5 minutes later). The list goes on- you have a bad day-you are allowed that, but when I'm in a mood- it's as if I commit some crime- I know you are smarter than to make a comment that will further piss me off- seriously, if you think what I do is so easy, you do it. I've seen the way you write- you would have a hard time doing what I do- let alone understanding what I have to read- it's all relative my dear. Einstein was a great theorist on that- but it seems to have passed your notice.

Or...let's say, with blogs- you make damn well sure I read your blog, but I don't even think you give mine a passing glance...all the better for me I suppose- although a post like this may not be made public...or if it is...well.....you probably still wouldn't notice.

And please, don't play the martyr with me- it wiill not get you my sympathy nor win you any points...or leverage against me for that matter- whatever you have done in the past- hardly is made up for sometimes. And the fact you keep me dangling and make remarks that I can't stand- I make comments and it's as if I killed your mother (let's not mention when I say "your mom!"- as if it is worse than the disrespect you show your own mother sometimes. So please, don't lecture me.

Oh, and your two more years of life, certainly do not qualify you for anything special. And for someone who has seen more people in this world- you sure don't seem to be able to handle them well- or communicate- or get along with anyone. YOu were in Germany for a year and you only have 4 friends from that? and you are in Tennessee for 6 months, and do not make any friends but the people you live with? and then you place the blame on them- obviously, something is fucked up in your brain.

How much more can I write? Probably a novel. On nights like tonight, I just don't want to deal with you. I send you a message asking how your work is going, and you don't respond. Not my problem. I'll just go to friend's houses and see people that I feel would be more worth my while to see- while you wallow in your self-pity.