antisocial behavior:
I have demonstrated it my entire life. If I am too quiet, something must be wrong. Quiet people are hiding something. Yeah, it was that quiet guy sitting at his desk minding his own business. He didn't want to join anyone for lunches or after work parties. He was a bit of a loner I suppose. We didn't know he was going to blow up the parking deck. Hmm. I wonder what got into him.
And so you see, the quiet ones are the most suspicious. Well, it was because I was shy.
People are shy because they are self conscious. They are self conscious because they think someone thinks they are stupid, strange, or weird. What if I make a mistake, they will think I'm stupid.
Maybe they just have nothing to say. Quiet people are just quiet. You know the thinkers. But they could be scheming you see? Scheming, that's right.
I have come to the conclusion that I am friendless, jobless *except for that damn part time job which isn't worth talking about*, and unsuccessful for a couple of the follwoing reasons:
1) I am shy and quiet. And when I do finally express my opinions openly, people look at me with a strange expression, "Uhm, okay? That's interesting." Or they will grin, sometimes, nod, or squint their eyes like they're trying to see something far away.
2) I am short, wear glasses, have less than perfect skin, am a female, a minority, and a bit stumpy. Okay, at least this is what I see in the mirror and this is how I suspect other people see me. According to a study on hiring habits, employers are more likely to hire good looking people. This includes: tall, well built, athletic or toned, no glasses, major physical flaws or imperfections, women who wear make up, manicured nails, matching jewelry, well cut hair, closely shaven, nice shoes, tailored clothing, and no body odor. I have gathered this basic stuff from books on how to land a job.
3) I am socially awkward especially in groups. I also have difficulty talking to people with authority ie. managers. Unless I work closely with someone, I have anxiety when I talk to people. My palms sweat, I feel my armpits get warm and itchy, my face is flush, my neck gets blotchy, my eyes feel like they will pop out of my head, and my voice squeaks, cracks, and I stutter, sometimes spit when I talk, and feel like I'm going to vomit.
4) I'm overly competitive and I compare myself to others. I am also a perfectionist and obsessive compulsive. I am sometimes over analytical. I can be sarcastic. I am most definitely moody, tired, giddy, and can snap at any moment. I am prone to depression and in some cases schizophrenia. I self-diagnose and I am a hypchrondriac.
5) As a result of my lame childhood from a lower middle income family, with one possessive Asian Jehovah's Witness mother who barely speaks English and a reserved caucasian alcoholic father who is in denial, a single child with "older" parents with a very rocky borderline marriage, based on maniacal obsessiveness, unhealthy bickering, nagging, and abuse from a ruined and martyred mother. . .I suppose I did quite well for myself, considering that things could possibly be worse.
I suppose I am not the average happy Jo. I also did not know my grandparents and I live millions of miles away from any family members, excluding my parents. I am sexually flustered, bisexual, masochistic, passive agressive, and need some sort of life balancing medication.
As a result I am anti-social, may never hold down a job, relationship, or security. My idols are Indiana Jones, Bono, and Bjork. I want to be an anthropologist, photographer, artist, writer in a gung ho man's man's movie about a kick ass woman who kills people, especially Nazi's for relics. The relics on my list include: prehistoric dildos, ancient idols of vaginas, love poles, and sex altars with "I love death" inscribed on the side. I propose to venture into rat infested burial tombs and underground caverns covered in bat shit.
The period of time to accomplish this? Ten weeks, before I explode.
I have demonstrated it my entire life. If I am too quiet, something must be wrong. Quiet people are hiding something. Yeah, it was that quiet guy sitting at his desk minding his own business. He didn't want to join anyone for lunches or after work parties. He was a bit of a loner I suppose. We didn't know he was going to blow up the parking deck. Hmm. I wonder what got into him.
And so you see, the quiet ones are the most suspicious. Well, it was because I was shy.
People are shy because they are self conscious. They are self conscious because they think someone thinks they are stupid, strange, or weird. What if I make a mistake, they will think I'm stupid.
Maybe they just have nothing to say. Quiet people are just quiet. You know the thinkers. But they could be scheming you see? Scheming, that's right.
I have come to the conclusion that I am friendless, jobless *except for that damn part time job which isn't worth talking about*, and unsuccessful for a couple of the follwoing reasons:
1) I am shy and quiet. And when I do finally express my opinions openly, people look at me with a strange expression, "Uhm, okay? That's interesting." Or they will grin, sometimes, nod, or squint their eyes like they're trying to see something far away.
2) I am short, wear glasses, have less than perfect skin, am a female, a minority, and a bit stumpy. Okay, at least this is what I see in the mirror and this is how I suspect other people see me. According to a study on hiring habits, employers are more likely to hire good looking people. This includes: tall, well built, athletic or toned, no glasses, major physical flaws or imperfections, women who wear make up, manicured nails, matching jewelry, well cut hair, closely shaven, nice shoes, tailored clothing, and no body odor. I have gathered this basic stuff from books on how to land a job.
3) I am socially awkward especially in groups. I also have difficulty talking to people with authority ie. managers. Unless I work closely with someone, I have anxiety when I talk to people. My palms sweat, I feel my armpits get warm and itchy, my face is flush, my neck gets blotchy, my eyes feel like they will pop out of my head, and my voice squeaks, cracks, and I stutter, sometimes spit when I talk, and feel like I'm going to vomit.
4) I'm overly competitive and I compare myself to others. I am also a perfectionist and obsessive compulsive. I am sometimes over analytical. I can be sarcastic. I am most definitely moody, tired, giddy, and can snap at any moment. I am prone to depression and in some cases schizophrenia. I self-diagnose and I am a hypchrondriac.
5) As a result of my lame childhood from a lower middle income family, with one possessive Asian Jehovah's Witness mother who barely speaks English and a reserved caucasian alcoholic father who is in denial, a single child with "older" parents with a very rocky borderline marriage, based on maniacal obsessiveness, unhealthy bickering, nagging, and abuse from a ruined and martyred mother. . .I suppose I did quite well for myself, considering that things could possibly be worse.
I suppose I am not the average happy Jo. I also did not know my grandparents and I live millions of miles away from any family members, excluding my parents. I am sexually flustered, bisexual, masochistic, passive agressive, and need some sort of life balancing medication.
As a result I am anti-social, may never hold down a job, relationship, or security. My idols are Indiana Jones, Bono, and Bjork. I want to be an anthropologist, photographer, artist, writer in a gung ho man's man's movie about a kick ass woman who kills people, especially Nazi's for relics. The relics on my list include: prehistoric dildos, ancient idols of vaginas, love poles, and sex altars with "I love death" inscribed on the side. I propose to venture into rat infested burial tombs and underground caverns covered in bat shit.
The period of time to accomplish this? Ten weeks, before I explode.
VIEW 10 of 10 COMMENTS
bye