ihavebeenfloated

I might not be the best friend. I’m sure all my friends would agree, I am a bit of a sarcastic asshole, but I offset it with being a great friend in other ways, I think, so it balances out. At least, that’s my theory, perhaps my goal, I don’t know. I started this entry off all wrong. It’s far too early in the morning to be writing coherently. Besides, I’m upset, which is why I am writing.

The point is this: friendship, above all things, makes me feel indebted to people. There was a time on the internet when I felt it was my duty and responsibility to respond to people who wrote to me after reading my website. I never thought I was too important or too popular to return emails to people promptly and on time. I vaguely remember writing a rant about this directed toward some entry that Ben Brown wrote where he basically went, “I am too popular, please stop emailing me, I wont respond,” and I was just filled with anger that he would have the nerve to imply that he was more important than the people who wanted to contact him. Balls to you, Ben Brown.

Anyway.

I stress somewhat endlessly about my friendships with people. Some of my friends are lousy in ways, just like I am, but still, I stress. There are certain things I feel that being friends with someone requires. Here’s a list.

1.) Answer their calls or return their calls in a timely matter.

3.) If you make a commitment, being it materialistic, monetary, or otherwise, you have to follow through. Period.

Actually, all of those are bullshit, let’s just put it this way:

1.) Treat motherfuckers the way you want to be treated, seriously.

I don’t appreciate it when I am ignored by a friend. I can’t fucking stand it. It drives me nuts. I also fucking hate being stood up or waiting long periods of time without any status updates. I hate being jerked around by people: if you don’t want to hang out or be friends anymore, just fucking say it. If you agree to help me with something and then decide not to, just fucking say it, don’t avoid me. It’s simple shit, people: treat your friends with respect. I ain’t asking you to give money to the homeless or be kinder to strangers, I am just telling you that friends are friends, treat them as such.

Sometimes I feel like I am the only person who actually gets this, and I don’t even like people. Seriously, and this is going to destroy the meaning of this entry almost entirely, but I have several friends I just genuinely don’t like. I don’t think they are good people. Sometimes I think that if they died, no one would miss them, least of all me, but you know what? I am their friend, and I am going to treat them as such. By becoming their friend, I signed a mental agreement that I would treat them with respect even if they don’t necessarily deserve it.

THE FUCKING END. There is no “well they did this” or “i feel like this today” or “i don’t feel like leaving the house today so i am going to ignore everyone”. I can’t! I can’t do or say those things, no, because every day I have commitments to spend time with people and I take that shit seriously. In honesty, I don’t even know anymore what it feels like to not want to leave the house at all. There are days when I feel like, damn, I want a short day, but never: I want no day at all. It doesn’t even occur to me anymore. What would I do if it wasn’t for my friends? Even the shitty ones? I can understand someone with a brand new significant other deserting most of their friends, I don’t think I would do that myself (someday perhaps I will find out), but without that second source of social contact, I don’t understand how someone could just lock themselves in their house and not want to spend time with people. The concept is foreign.

Anyway, got off topic. Will just wrap this up:

So, this goes to all my good friends out there: Don’t treat me like shit, I don’t deserve it. I really don’t. Just think of how many times I have come through for you, think of the fact that if you really needed help I would drop my shit and come help you, be it a ride somewhere or computer assistance or whatever, and all I ask for in return—and you all know this is true because I never ask for anything from anyone—is for you to treat me with decency and respect. I think it is a fair trade.

Flanders told me once that if he needed to hide a body, I’d be the first person he’d call. I said I’d be comfortable with that, and asked him, so, then, if I needed to hide a body, could I call you? “No,” he said.

That kind of sums up why I hate having friends.