because, for some reason, it feels more private that Facebook. Plus I can write long things, which, despite the constant stream of borderline-pornographic images, is what I believe it was probably designed for.
I also believe that when you read from Tumblr in your head, you read things in a calmer way than when on Facebook.
I want you (whoever you may be) to read this nice and calmly despite the fact that, after a sea of emotions, all that’s washed up is anger, resentment and sorrow.
For six months I have worked and for six months I have failed to obtain a job. A living. This would be a lot less stressful if I wasn’t £2,000 in debt.
Eight months ago, I met a girl. Worst decision of my life was taking her out on a date. Shit stirring little cunt. If I end up found in the middle of Belfairs Woods with my wrists slit, this is the person to blame.
She has gone out of her way (and, apparently, continues to do so) to turn as many people against me as possible. Not sure why, considering she said it was hilarious that Stephen Hooper had asked her out twice and she turned him down both times and that Adam Wright was a Creepy weirdo, she’d want to turn them two against me like that.
Definitely didn’t handle that situation properly, but it’s about fucking time I vented about that. If I could cure cancer by giving just one person in the world all the past, present and future cancers: Bingo.
This of course, makes me an incredibly bitter human being. Blame me.
Let’s go back a lot further.
Primary school and Secondary school.
I’d love to know what exactly I done to deserve all the shit I got then. I sincerely don’t remember going around getting negative attention from people, so what, the fuck, gives?
Secondary school was the most insane of the two. I had a reason for that. “Because, Alec, although everyone in your tutor group, nay, the entire school was into wrestling this time last week, but we’re not now and, as you still are, we’re going to do the absolute BEST we can to make your life as much like hell as we possibly can.”
Still love wrestling and I am damn fucking proud of it.
And to any cunt who ever said to me “wrestling’s fake” in a derogatory manner, I speak for myself and on behalf of every wrestling fan as well as every professional wrestler on this planet, ESPECIALLY those who are now injured to the point where they can’t make a living or were worked so hard they had heart failure (RIP EDDIE GUERRERO!): Go to hell you absolute cunts.
If I was confident enough in my strength, I’d break anyone who said to me’s arm with a wrestling hold (just to add insult to injury).
The pure amount of anger I just got from that actually brings me to my next point:-
I’ve been told that several old friends of mine have been complaining about me behind my back because I talk too much about things I like.
Literally being back-stabbed for being too passionate.
All I can say to those people is: gutted. You have no passion in life and you will NEVER have that “WrestleMania moment” (a term, although generally used to describe a wrestler’s favorite memory at one of the events they have performed in, I use, as a fan, to describe a huge, momentous moment in one’s life).
And as long as I am alive, I will continue to yell “YES!” to rub it in your pathetic, jealous faces.
There’s a few people I know (and LOVE) for the passion they have.
Jamie Hodgson for his art.
Fi Mone for her doctoring.
TJ for his computing.
Stu Hey for his various forms of media.
Dan Jobey for his punk.
Dan and Kat for their daughter.
Sophie Frost for her beards.
Alex Elliott for his music.
It’s okay to love. It’s fucking exceptional to share your passion.
Am I really opinionated? No. And if you either KNEW ME WELL ENOUGH or watched wrestling you’d know I just enjoy being a heel and getting reactions.
Being a heel is more fun than being a babyface. GOOGLE IT!
What else am I pissed off about?
Same four walls is really pissing me off.
Also: girls who get off with not only me but my mate as well then go berserk asking me why I told their boyfriend, who’s supposedly a controlling cunt, then BLOCK ME before I have a chance to respond!
Babe: if he’s as much as a “cunt” as you say he is, you’d be happy he found out so you have an easy escape.
If not, then you’re left just being a cheater and deserve no sympathy OR second chances.
Ugh, so much anger.
I was going to do some massive list of people I felt I should apologize to for stuff, but I don’t care enough now I’m a bit calmer.
Maybe next time