A simple introduction for whoever gives a damn.

I am a nut job. Of course it’s easy to just say that one is a nut job, but to explain it makes it way more interesting in my eyes. Part of having an extremely low traffic blog is so that I can post intimate details about my thoughts without any repercussions from friends and family thinking that I am insane. So to send off the 2012 year, I’d like to publicly state a few reasons why a psychiatric visit may occur very soon.

If only brains actually looked like this. My biology teacher didn't believe in gloves, so I touched preserved sheep brain with my bare hands. Go sciences.

If only brains actually looked like this. My biology teacher didn’t believe in gloves, so I touched preserved sheep brain with my bare hands. Go sciences.

1) I blurt things out.
I don’t think it’s tourettes, but something is definitely wrong with me. On more than one occasion, I’ve actually said “I should kill someone” out loud, for no reason whatsoever. Other phrases I seem to like saying include,  “your face”, “I KNEW IT!”, and sometimes, just plain gibberish. Luckily, I haven’t blurted anything out too incriminating around people, and it usually comes out sounding like muttering so I should be fine for now. As a side note, I haven’t actually killed someone. At least not yet.

2) I absolutely hate compliments.
And no, It has no relation to my self-esteem. An example that happens frequently would be whenever my younger brother says I’m nice. I switch to a low dark voice and tell him that if he ever uses that word in relation to me, there will be hell to pay. It’s not even like its a challenge. I find that it’s more of a power struggle issue and that if my brother finds out that I am not actually evil, he will be able to get away with things like touching my stuff, or talking back to me. Speaking of being evil, it brings me to my next point.

3) I am pure evil.
Not in the traditional sense in which I have horns and a giant three-pronged fork, nor in a modern sense in which I use my  popularity and bitch powers to ruin some poor sap’s day. No, I mean the psychologically analytical evil being that uses a person’s deepest fears against them. Am I a psychologist? No. I just have way too much time on my hands and I like observing people in their “natural habitat”. So far to point that I imagine conversations in which an argument occurs so that I have basic insults and comebacks. They’re kind of like cheat sheets, but for pointless “debating”.

4) I make friends through forced exposure.
Now what exactly does that mean? I don’t have poor social skills, I just don’t talk to people in general. All of the friends I have today, are my friends because I happened to be sitting in the same room on a regular basis over a time frame of about a week. In high school this wasn’t a problem, seeing that all classrooms supported a little over 30 students so I just became friends with whoever had to sit next to me, if they survived I mean (I mentioned that I’m crazy right?). But when Uni hit, a full lecture hall meant that I never sat with the same people everyday for a weeks time, so I didn’t really make any friends. Not that I mind. A lot of people suck.

5) I have an obsession with names.
If we’re part of a medium sized group, chances are, I already know your first and last name. And this isn’t from me asking you for them, it’s from me desperately listening to any conversation within earshot so that I can pin a label to your face. I don’t even confirm with you to make sure I’m right, and once I get a name, that’s how it sticks forever. I know a girl name Amanda Gallacher. Her last name isn’t actually Gallacher, and she’s corrected me countless times, but it’s stuck and it’s never ever going to change.

So here are some basic five reasons why I’m crazy. There are a whole bunch more ranging from extreme paranoia to non-provoked hallucinations. I would see a shrink but then it would take about a week for me to open up and movie stereotypes state that they are both expensive and inefficient. So nah. Will I post a new year’s resolution? I don’t know. I never follow through anyway.

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