A Good Person

    Hey again. :) How are you? Mm, same. I feel that. I hope it improves for you soon. I know exactly how you feel. Like… right?! I always think, “wow, it really can’t be that hard to send a quick text message,” but hey, I guess it is. I guess I’m wrong. I’m wrong a LOT lately. I know! You wouldn’t think it just looking at me. But hey, nobody is perfect, y’know? I started this thing about four or five years ago now and I can’t even keep on top of it, so. What do I know, eh?

    I started this blog with the intention of talking about things I like, things that inspired me. Now I only use it to talk about things I don’t like. It’s sad, honestly. This medium has been hijacked by the negative thoughts in my brain. I can’t help it though, y’know? If I don’t get these thoughts out, I can’t focus in real time. I need to focus, for all the important things I do. Like, play Spider-Man or watch TV. Haha.

    I’ve been watching The Politician with Joe these past couple days and I love it. We started watching it as a meme because I like Ben Platt a lot and the premise sounded so silly, but it’s not a meme anymore. I genuinely really like it. Something about feeling like I relate to Ben’s character, Payton Hobart, in the way that he doesn’t believe he is a good person, and that he simply does good things to further his own agenda - his own agenda being becoming President of the United States one day - I feel like that often enough that I can see myself in Payton. Which is… problematic, to say the least. Sweat drip.

    If you asked anyone, they would probably tell you I’m a good person. In some ways, I am. I make time for people; that’s like, my superpower. Even when I’m absolutely drained, toe-to-toe with sleep deprivation, thrown to the ropes by my exhausted body, I still make time. I make time for my friends, I make time for my parents and I make time for Joe. I mean, I see my dad every single day, even when I feel like I can’t keep my eyes open any longer. And, I mean, he sees it. He’s not an idiot. Most days, without fail, it’s, “you shouldn’t have come if you feel tired,” and I just nod and tell him it’s okay and that I don’t mind. I don’t mind. I just want him to be happy, and he’s at his happiest when he’s seeing me.

    So, all that kind’ve makes me a good person, I suppose. Whatever ‘good’ is anyway. Societally, I could be considered a good person. But I feel like I have some pretty bad traits, too. For example, if I feel like somebody has wronged me I’ll probably just rip into them behind their back to make myself feel better. Make nasty jokes, say bad things, wish I’d never met that person, etc. I’ve had a lot of bad in my life, and whenever I finally get to hold onto something good, that good thing always grows legs, gets up and walks away. It feels so unfair, and I think that is what makes me the most angry.

    My neighbours think I’m a bad person. We don’t speak but I know they don’t like me. I know what you’re thinking, but it’s not paranoia. I don’t like them either. If I can go a day without seeing them, that day is made just that bit better. I can’t stand them. The way they make noise and stomp around and talk to each other in the communal area, right outside my door. I just want to open it up and tell them to shut their loud fucking mouths. But I don’t. I sit inside and seethe about it. Luckily, Joe doesn’t like them either so we can have a good prattle about them. I wish they’d all just move out and piss off.

    The good thing about Payton Hobart is that even though he is painfully driven towards his one goal, he ends up doing the right thing in the end. He might not be a model good person, (what politician is?), but he tries to do good things for people he cares about, and his campaigns always reflect that. I hope that I can do good things for good people even when there isn’t anything for me in return. That’s like… the ultimate definition of a good person.

Signed,

Elijah.

Meta Sentience.

04/05/2022

I Miss

    I miss the way your fingers would tap whatever surface you were leaning on when you began to think deeply.

    I miss the way you would hold my hand, the way it felt like you thought you’d lose me if you let go.

    I miss the catch in your throat that came just before a thought that wasn’t properly thought out.

    I miss the way the food would fall out of your mouth when you ate because it always made me laugh.

    I miss the way you would message me out of the blue saying you loved me, not because I liked it or needed to hear it, but because you liked it and needed to say it.

    I miss the way you would ask if I wanted to see you, because of course I did, and of course I do.

    I miss the way we would both pass and waste time listening to music in your car, the way you’d lean your head, and sometimes your body on mine.

    I miss the way we raced our remote control cars in the burning heat for spontaneous fun.

    I miss the way we complained together about our respective problems.

    I miss the way your hugs would feel so urgent, like you needed my warmth or my closeness and affection.

    I miss the way you needed to be near me at all times, as if we were bound together and we would break if we parted.

    I miss the way you would always come to me first if you needed anything, including advice, opinions, or help.

    I miss the way I could see you anytime.

    I miss the way you would agree to watch movies with me and then fall asleep beside me when it got too much.

    I miss being able to make memories with you.

    I miss being around you.

    I miss those early days because it was all new again and yet so familiar.

    I miss being needed.

    I miss being your friend.

    I miss being wanted.

    I miss being around you.

    I miss being there.

    I miss being your friend.

    I miss you.

Signed,

Elijah.

Meta Sentience.

01/05/2022