Veronica Sawyer: \”No, my life\’s not perfect. I don\’t really like my friends.\”
James Dean: \”Yeah. I don\’t really like your friends either.\”
Veronica Sawyer: \”I just killed my best friend.\”
James Dean: \”And your worst enemy.\”
Veronica Sawyer: \”Same difference.\”
Veronica Sawyer: \”She\’s my best friend. God, I hate her.\”
I hate the way we are when we\’re all together. I hate the way I am when I\’m with you. I hate the way we treat each other.
I hate the way our misanthropy manifests into brutal mistreatment of innocent bystanders who are momentarily mistakenly attracted to what they perceive to be our sharp wits. I hate the way we sadistically toy with those people to make ourselves feel better. I hate that we end up hurting people who actually maybe really care, and who weren\’t just out to fuck around themselves.
I hate that the more we are together, and that the more of us show up, the worse we act. I hate that we\’re this group of people who still feel alone as individuals, despite our bed-swapping antics in-circle. I hate that we feel comfortable enough to swap body fluids but not emotions. I hate that in general, we pretend we feel nothing except contempt.
I hate that the whole party knows we slept together last weekend, because no one can keep their mouths shut. I hate that we all justified it by saying we feel like brother and sisters to each other, and yet we (seem to keep having) had incestuous relations. Ha ha, isn\’t that funny. Join the HPV Club, let\’s all drink to HPV! Eight of us, sitting around the fire stove, drinking to HPV and enlightening the poor souls who happened to come by. Terrifying them with facts of cancer and pointing out one person\’s oral herpes. STD and porn jokes all night long. Alienating everyone else at the party; almost no one else would come near our rowdy, oversexed crew on the porch. My friends yelling at the passing revellers that I was number one on bondagetokens.com. (\”Bondage where?\” said Kevin, \”I just want to make sure I got it right. Say it again…and again and again.\”)
I hate that I\’ve been to bed with five people in the past week, and just don\’t give a damn. I\’d rather stay home, but even my doctor tells me that\’s unhealthy and that I\’ve been too hermit-like since returning from Oz.
I hate the fact that something like 75% of my friends only participate in my social orbit out of the hope or reality of bedding me. I hate that taking my sexual availability and anyone with whom there is any sexual tension out of the equation brings my social circle down to about four people who have almost no time to see me, and who are as broke as I am, and are therefore just as unable to fund socializing (including transport to socializing).
I hate that I told Dr Maude to watch out, because in the parable of the scorpion and the frog, he was the frog and I was the scorpion, and he didn\’t believe me. It took him more than three years to realize it. I hate that despite realizing it the very, very hard way, he still loves me and still wants to be with me.
Even just last week, Caesar told me \”If I could, I\’d always counsel you to \’not have your fun\’ in this way. What\’s the point anyway?\” I hate that two weeks ago he commented that I have \”so many secret lives\” that he can\’t keep track of them all. I hate that after four years of knowing him he finally knows these things about me, and as a result, steers clear.
I hate that I am a scorpion, an asshole. I\’ve alienated so many people I\’ve cared about because I\’ve developed the nature of a sado-masochistic fool bent on self-destruction, not caring about the consequences of my actions, or just completely distancing myself from those consequences entirely.
I hate that so many people love me, platonically and otherwise, though I cause them or others so much pain.
It\’s not just the crew that I sometimes run with, but the crew makes it worse, for sure. I have this in me, but I keep it fairly well contained unless around others like me. The Bro Crew need to be eliminated from my life. Almost every instance of chaos since leaving Dr Maude has directly correlated with increased time spent with members of the Bro Squad. Dammit. Dammit!
I did this over the summer, too: cutting out what I deemed to be the bad influences in my life. For some reason, I missed the Bros. With every month, my social life is steadily shrinking in the name of \”eliminating the toughest stains.\” Where do I find replacements that are almost as fun to be with, but aren\’t completely intoxicated, or assholes, or both, or people who hang out with others who are of those types? Jesus. It increasingly feels like a smaller and smaller world, with all this narrowing the options and whatnot.