Fear and Loathing (well, just Loathing tbh).

You know what I hate? I hate people who write those blog posts where they moan and whine about how bad their life is. People who fill up their timelines and websites with bitchy posts about everyone and everything and seem to take pleasure in doing it. The ones who just seem to reek of negativity pretty much all the time.

You know what I hate more? The fact that I am rapidly turning into one of those people. And there doesn’t seem to be anything I can do to stop it.

Believe me, I’ve wanted to be that person who always has something good to say, the one who can stand up and say that they are enjoying themselves and that everything is just bloody marvellous. I really want to be that happy, positive person, but the truth is, I can’t be. Any attempt at trying a positive mental attitude usually ends up with me in a rage. Seeing people on Twitter disgustingly happy about their relationships and stuffing it in your face just makes me disgustingly miserable (please, save that stuff for Facebook. I tolerate it better on there because I don’t use it much). I find it difficult to say anything that is remotely positive about anything, especially myself, because at the moment, I don’t feel good about myself. I can’t really remember the last time I did.

Trying to develop a “life is brilliant” outlook doesn’t help when you’re constantly being fed a diet of negativity. The media is full of depressing stuff, day in, day out. Meanwhile, on sites like Twitter, there seems to be an unwritten rule that you can’t say anything remotely nice about or at anyone. Even the most complimentary posts have a smidgeon of snark in them at times. It just isn’t the done thing to be 100% positive, 100% of the time – not that anyone could ever really be that anyway, unless they were on drugs I suppose.

I realise that it is in part my fault that I feel like this. I know that I shouldn’t let things I see on the internet and elsewhere get to me, but it does. I know that I shouldn’t put myself down all the time, taking the piss out of my looks and my incredible inability to get a boyfriend and actually not be joking, but I do. It doesn’t  make me feel better doing it anymore than people who try to tell me I’m being silly do.

My netbook battery is dying. Probably a good time to end this.

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