As I walked into the theatre, mid previews, I was more fixated on the bag of Sour Patch kids in my hand than what was happening on the screen. This held through during the entirety of the movie. I realized I hated Mark Zuckerberg, the site’s creator and film’s main character, from the first scene. It could be the way entitlement oozed from the glazed look in his eyes, but mainly it was in the way he spoke. Every word he uttered was like a fist to a wall, asserting his own assumed intellectual superiority. Though Mark Zuckerberg in real life is possibly nothing like the caricature offered in the film, the reality is that I don’t care regardless.  The film did not make itself out to be a biographical adaptation of an American billionaire’s rise, nor did I believe it to be. My best guess is that the character of Mark Zuckerberg was played out as a choice to draw audiences to the story. One of the issues I have with the film is that there seems to be a lack of likeable or relatable characters. The character I felt remotely in tune with was Eduardo, Mark’s best friend. Yet, being that he gave the money to start up the site, I don’t necessarily feel too bad for the guy.

As an audience member, I don‘t truly know how to feel. Am I supposed to feel bad for the Winklevoss twins, who sue Mark for “stealing their idea”? I find it hard to grieve for the “misfortune” of white privilege personified. Should I shed a tear when Mark sends the girlfriend he bashed a friend request on Facebook? Should I be upset that I will never know if she accepts his friend request? In all honestly, I don’t quite care either way.

 Aside from the fact that I cared more for the overpriced snacks I bought at the theatre than I did for the film, I cannot seem to understand the critical acclaim for The Social Network. Prior to watching the film I saw interviews with some of the actors. When talking about the film, there was reference to it being a best film of the year, or about there being Oscar buzz. As I reflect on these assertions, I can’t help but think that I may have seen the wrong movie. Though I can’t analyze the film for its cinematic values (lighting, staging, camera movement, etc.), I can say that I’ve seen better movies. As I left the theatre, I was shocked at the time. The two hour film dragged. When in a movie theater, I normally hit a point when I unwillingly admit to myself that the movie has to come to an end soon.  This was not the case during The Social Network. Now, this is coming from someone who has seen Titanic more times than he would care to mention. I have never found the three-hour film to be too long.

Just like I can’t explain why I am a member of Facebook, or why I can’t seem to pinpoint what lures me to the site, I can’t describe why  people liked this movie so much. I don’t find the story to be something that needed to be told. I believe the reason many people went to go see the movie was because it was about Facebook, which is something that many are a part of. Just like I’m sure many people would see a film about their parents, friends, or hometown, I believe that many people were drawn to the movie on the basis that they themselves have a Facebook, and somehow feel invested. I, personally, was only moderately entertained throughout, and so the film only barely served its purpose, which is to entertain. I wouldn’t watch the film again, nor would I recommend that people rush to see it. This is definitely a film that can wait to be rented for a dollar on RedBox. I give The Social Network a good standing only on the basis that it gave me an opportunity to eat a bag of my favorite candy.

Brownies!

A Hamburger, with pickles .

A box of store bought cookies that were haunting me in our kitchen.

Corn

Homemade French Fries!

An Icee with a straw

CapriSun

(Anything with a straw really).

Multiple Chicken drumsticks.

A Ceaser Salad.

A Turkey Sandwich.

A Peach, Pear, Pineapple (any fruit, really).

Green Mill Pizza.

Chicken Parm.

A Tortilla.

Chips!

Chipotle!

Tator tots.

Toast.

Pancakes. (for some reason when I thought of Pancakes I wanted them EXTRA bad)

Now, this is not a complete list by any means because I’m sure that when I post this I’ll think of way more food items. I honestly just can’t wait until my diet doesn’t consist of luke warm soup and Vicodin.

- I’m bi polar.
Okay so not really (at least not diagnosed) but I get in these mood swings. This goes along with being needy. I can be super happy on minute…then I start feeling loney and get super depresed, iand I start feeling alone. I start questioning why I’m alone and I start to wonder if you notice me.

-I do things for attention.
If I feel like I’m alone and if I feel depressed or unwanted or unloved I do things like write depressing shit to get your attention. Nothing in specific but everything in general.

- I get paranoid easily.
If you go a while wihtout responding to my text I get anxious. I can hardly breathe. I turn my phone off and back on to make sure it wasn’t being stupid and not showing me the sent texts. I text myself to make sure that my text still works. I call you and hang up before it rings in the hopes that you might see and call back. I open a text adressed to you. Just a Blank message I hope to send just so that you can get it and then wonder what I was going to say. Just to get you thinking about me.

These are just a few reasons why you might want to get away from me. These are just a few of the ways you make me crazy(er). This is how I know I love you. Sometimes I think you hurt me more than you help, not in a bad way…just that sometimes I think that the longer I’m with you the harder it’ll be for me to let go. The harder you’ll make to for me to get fixed. Although with you I don’t feel that broken. <3.

In any event, I do this weird thing where I can actually like someone, and I can actually think they’re a really great person, but they could do something that only slightly involves me, and then it dramatically shifts the way I feel about them. Like a first impression of sorts. That is, and forever will be how I remember them. There really isn’t anything that I can do to help it. It’s just how I feel. Today, I had one of those moment with someone.

I’ve come as close as to almost de-friend them from Facebook, although that would prompt this person to ponder why, and I honestly don’t care enough to have to deal with it.  It could be one of those situations where I could mend it, not hold a grudge, but I honestly don’t want to. I mean, they’re not a bad person, they didn’t dis Lady Gaga or Lea Michele or Neil Patrick Harris, or any of my other idols, but it feels like in a way they did. Ever since hearing this anecdote I’ve had a sick feeling. I’ve had a horrible pain that I can’t shake off. As I write this blog, and as their image runs around in my head I am honestly disgusted. I literally took a shower earlier and tried to scrub the dis-taste from my body.

The pure thought of having to spend a undetermined amount of time with this person in the coming months is honestly making me sick to my stomach. But, like I said, it’s just like a first impression, it is hard to kick it. I don’t mean to hold a grudge, but in this case I honestly cannot help it. I was offended in more ways than one, and I just can’t seem to forget, nor do I want to put enough effort in to remedy the situation, and be upfront and say “Hey, this is what I heard, and honestly it is uncool, fuck you!”. I can’t bring myself to doing that, not in the slightest.

As said by Chris Colfer in the issue of Rolling Stone with Glee on the cover:
” You know that forget-and-forgive bullshit? No, no, no, no, not for me. You take that grudge and let that grudge fester, and then you use it.”

Something that brings me great fear in dying is that I didn’t make a difference for anyone to actually care that I was gone. Sure, people that I know might be sad, but aside from that, 5 years after I died I’d be just a distant memory of someone that was, rather than a ever present importance.

I’ve always thought that I’d want to die young. I mean, the whole idea of a tragic death really speaks to me. Young deaths are usually considered tragic. However, it isn’t so much that, as it is this: if I die young the people who speak at my funeral can talk about what I could have done with my life. Who I could have been. The places I could have gone. How I could have changed the world. If I die old, all that people will talk about is what I did, and, if I didn’t do much, then everyone would know. They would all be aware of the mediocre person I was in life. Whereas with a young death, people can pretend that I could have been more than average. Even if they didn’t believe it to be true, they could pretend, at least for a while. My whole thing with dying is this: What impact have I made? Where have I left my footprints? The scary thing for me that when it happens is that I won’t be prepared. I’ve always been able to shape the way people perceive me. Who’s going to do that when I’m gone?

There is something about knowing that your dreams won’t come true that just isn’t the best. It’s like knowing the ending of a movie or a book. You know that a character is going to die, for instance, and well, I don’t know about you, but, honestly, the movie is no longer worth watching, and the book is no longer worth reading.

There was a voice in my head that told me the possible unattainability of my dreams, but it wasn’t until I said it out loud that it sunk it. It wasn’t until then, that I understood that now nothing is left, but walking slowly and painfully to the dark abyss, without the ability to return. Doomed forever to stay in reality. Trapped without an escape. Where is my escape? Who is my escape? My distraction. My makes it all better no matter what?

I seem now to be ignoring the crappy parts of my life. So, the whole crappy work thing, I can ignore that. Is that what it means to be happy? Is happiness just a state of mind? Are you happy if you want to be, and unhappy if you want to be? Is this how it works, am I just figuring it all out now?

I mean, I have heard before that dark clouds follow those who have an umbrella open. Okay, so I just made that up, but, does it make sense? If you carry an umbrella you’re asking for rain, right? What are your thoughts? Do you need to just find a happy place? Can you just have a little corner of happiness that you can go to. Can you just make everything feel better without things necessarily being great?

Leave Comments. Start a discussion.

I have work, which I go to from Wednesday to Sunday. Sure, sometimes that will vary if someone needs a favor and wants me to switch, but, for the most part, it’s the same routine. It’s just some mindless, lack of effort, occurrence in my life. I don’t want to keep doing it, but I have to. I have to do it over and over and over again. I tell myself that at some point I won’t have to do it for long, that I won’t have the misfortune of the people that have been there for years and years. The people who pride themselves on 10 plus years. The same people that make me sick, that I can’t understand. It sickens me that anyone can work such a pointless, empty job for so long, and actually feel good about what they are doing.

Me, personally, I know, and understand that society gets nothing from the work I do. I feel horrible doing it, and I hate ever second of it. The hatred is barley overshadowed by the small, 30 second glimmers of compliments that I rarely get from happy customers. I feel like I’m in the one twilight zone where they relive the same day over and over and over again. The days just blur together, one after the other. What did I do this day? What did I do that day? They’re all the same day. The problem? It doesn’t end, it just keeps going and going and going.

I’m like an animal in a box with no holes. I can’t breathe, the air escapes me. I’m waiting for something to be the air in my lungs.  I want the cycle of repetition to end. I need some road block, some speed bump to turn it down and something to eventually press “next” on what is my life. I’m tired of the same old song.

10. Dane Cook

9. Kate Gosselin

8. Levi Johnston

7. Heidi & Spencer

6. Carrie Prejean

5. Kanye West

4. Balloon Boy’s Parents

3. Chris Brown

2. Jon Gosselin

1. Tiger Woods

As kids we are taught to ask for what we want. The sooner we learn to speak, the sooner we can tell our parents what we want. However, before we can talk we attempt to get our point across through lots of pointing, crying, and whining. Sometimes it’s hard to know exactly what a young child (baby to be exact) wants. Even though they might point, we might just not get it. Now, although we think we eventually grow out of this ‘stage’, in reality we don’t.

I think I know what I want at this point (in relation to a particular situation which you may, or may not hear more about). Sure…it would be easy to just say it. It would be easy to “spit it out”. But, what would my life be if it were easy, right? Yes, I have to make things just a little bit more complex. I could attempt to give myself what I want. I could be the one to make the effort. I mean, what’s the worse that can happen, I’ll have to face rejection and disappointment? Oh, right. That is the worse that could happen. That is pretty bad, to me, anyway.

Like a baby, I have tried to use methods that are less straight forward in an attempt to get what I want. Subtle things. Too subtle? Perhaps. Though, maybe they aren’t subtle at all….that’s another thought.  I try to tell myself that in this particular instance it’s not my turn to make a move. Like Chess, I must await patiently for the other person to move. That’s easier said than done.

The point, well, everything is a lot less difficult if we just verbalize what we want. If we verbalize what we feel. What we need. In some cases we even have to verbalize that we think that other people should verbalize. Should I take my own advice? Yes, yes I should. Will I, unfortunately for my sake…I probably won’t.