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Jun. 15th, 2011

Sean Hayes

(no subject)

I just post things here that I can't post on Tumblr for fear of who might find it.

But really, can I just mention this text I got?

"Kinda feel like we should have a chat. Lol. God im awkward...See at the movie i tried to hold your hand. Thats because i kinda like you, i think your pretty cute. But idk how you feel about me, which is adding to my awkwardness. Also, dustin kinda sorta had a thing for you, hes cool with me "chasing" you but i dont think it would be a good thing to hold hands in front of him or anything. Not that im assuming you would..." [sic]

Aside from the obvious, there are just so many things wrong about this. So, so many.

A) Yes, you tried to hold my hand. The key word there being tried. I told you to stop. If that, in addition to how fucking rude I've been to you since day one, hasn't called out a big fat "FUCK OFF" to you, I can't help you anymore. I just can't make it any clearer to you.

B)You can't "kinda like" me. I don't know you. You don't know me. I mean, literally. You actually, literally do not know anything about me. You don't know what music I listen to, you don't know who my friends are, you don't know my views on anything, or my family life, nothing. Jack shit. you thinking I'm "pretty cute" is not good enough, and if anything, just makes you look like an asshole. I just can't even fathom where anyone could even think of using that as justification for a relationship.

C) That thing about Dustin is kind of a slap in the face. I mean, I've known how he felt about me. I've known for quite a while. But it's never been verbalized, and I think, in my mind, I was subconsciously able to pretend it didn't exist. I was able to joke around innocently. Now it's verbalized and actuall mentioned by someone other than Dustin and it stings.

D) This probably pisses me off the most. "hes cool with me "chasing" you." No. That's not how it works. Neither of you fucking own me. You guys don't get to decide who "chases" after me. Dustin isn't my keeper, and you don't ask him if it's all right to hit on me. I'm not the fucking prize of your guys' game. You don't get to compete in some sick Olympic game for me. Furthermore, Dustin doesn't have the right to say that's okay. I've told him about all the fucking creeps I get and then he does that. That isn't cool. Shouldn't you be trying to protect me from all this shit? Who are you to decide who comes into my love life? Both of you can go fuck yourselves.

E) "i dont think it would be a good thing to hold hands in front of him or anything" YEAH. THAT WOULDN'T BE A GOOD IDEA. Putting aside the sheer audacity of it, your friend gave you permission to go after the person he likes, and you actually feel the need to express that holding hands in front of him wouldn't be a good idea? You mean to tell me that rubbing salt in the wound ISN'T the best idea you've ever had?

God, fuck life. I hate it. I hate continuing to breathe.

May. 17th, 2011

Sean Hayes


Category Countdown

15 items of clothing (including shoes) that you own and love.
15. My Madden Girl wedge sandals that I got in Canada I literally look for an excuse to wear those.
14. The floral short shorts I just got at Terget the other day.
13. My brown dress from Romy
12. My blue floral dress from Forever 21.
11. My blue floral tank top/blouse from Romy
10. My orange Converse that are a size too small.
09. My Blink 182 shirt that is literally about seven years old and doesn't even fit anymore.
08. My Seven retail jeans
07. My long tunic with the burlesque pictures on it with red accents.
06. My awesome grey jacket with the buckles on it that I got at a yard sale like five years ago.
05. My bright orange San Fran hoodie that gets a lot of comments, some good, but mostly bad.
04. My long sleeve Lion King broadway show shirt.
03. My hollywood tank top.
02. I actually kind of hate all my other clothes.
01. Oh well.

14 friends of yours.
14. Shandra
13. Shavon
12. Krista
11. Suzannah
10. Kevin
09. Kevin
08. Kelly
07. Mikayla
06. Alex
05. Wil
04. James
03. Geoff
02. Dustin
01. Jordan

13 trends (not just clothes) you remember from middle school.
13. God.
12. Fuck middle school
11. Fuck it
10. That fucking "I'm in love with a stripper" song
09. And Etnies
08. And the emo kids.
07. and the cutting.
06. And the cliques
05. I hate it
04. All of it
03. Now and forever.
02. What a stupid age
01. Filled with morons

12 things you love about yourself.
12. I am generally very open-minded.
11. Occasionally, I can be funny
10. I have nice teeth
09. I'm relatively intelligent
08. My eyes
07. How I've been a vegetarian for six years
06. Everything else about me kind of sucks
05. Like seriously.
04. No wonder no one ever talks to me
03. I'm terrible
02. And rude
01. And lazy

11 words that begin with the first letter of your name.
11. Trampoline
10. Technology
09. Topsy-turvy
08. Trollololo
07. Turpentine
06. Tailgate
05. Tourniquet
04. Twirled
03. Travelling
02. Tickle
01. Trickle

10 things you were obsessed with when you were younger.
10. Harry Potter
09. Good Charlotte
08. Orlando Bloom
07. Barbies
06. Power Rangers
05. Pokemon
04. Theater
03. Cooking
02. Ed, Edd, and Eddy
01. The Legend of Zelda

9 of your favorite bands/singers.
09. The Beatles
08. Queen
07. The Matches
06. Michael Jackson
05. Daft Punk
04. Weezer
03. Mika
02. Beck
01. Muse

8 things you did today.
08. Woke up late
07. Skipped calculus
06. Went to Barnes and Noble
05. Bought House of Leaves
04. Skipped chemistry
03. Went for a bike ride
02. Ate Nutella
01. died a little inside

7 things you want to do before you die.
07. Eat
06. Sleep
05. Breathe
04. Live
03. Herp
02. Derp
01. Derp

6 hairstyles you've had (cuts and colors).
06. Long nasty ratty hair
05. Nasty ratty hair with bangs
04. Chin length A-line without bangs
03. Chin length with bangs
02. Red strip on side which turned to orange
01. Whatever it is that I have now

5 websites you've visited today.
05. Livejournal
04. Facebook
03. Tumblr
02. Google
01. Um.

4 jobs you've had in your lifetime.
04. Courtesy Clerk at The Worst Place Ever
03. Cashier at The Worst Place Ever
02. Being alive should be considered a job.
01. Also wishing I was dead

3 people you can text if something is bothering you.
03. Shandra
02. That's actually really about it
01. Winner.

2 fictional characters that remind you of yourself.
02. Tobias Funke
01. Can I just be Tobias Funke.

1 thing that REALLY ticked you off today.
01. LIFE.

Apr. 14th, 2011

Sean Hayes

This is better suited for Livejournal than Tumblr.

It hurts to breathe. It kind of hurts to do anything but sit here and wallow in my own patheticness.

My lungs feel constricted and heavy and I'm still shaking uncontrollably. I need to cry, but I can't bring myself to conjure tears. I need to punch a wall, but I can't bring myself to walk over to one. I need to eat food, but I can't bring myself to chew and swallow it. I need to do homework, but I can't bring myself to put forth the effort to do it.

It's been coming in waves. First it was unbridled rage, rage at the situation, rage at myself, rage at the people involved. I saw red for a few minutes. Then the shaking started and overwhelming hopelessness kicked in. It was the closest I've come to crying all day, and yet no tears fell. Instead I just sat there, freezing cold, spasming and shaking, clutching a stuffed animal.

I drove to my haircut appointment feeling nothing. Sometimes I'd have to gulp down a spike of sadness, but ultimately, I felt nothing. When I got home, I just crawled back into bed and had a particularly lucid stage of confusion and processing. Now I feel tears stinging the back of my eyes again. And I desperately need them to fall, but they won't.

I just forced myself out of bed to go choke down dinner. I fed some of it to my dogs under the table and let my mom finish half of it because food just does not sound appealing at all.

I'm so upset and hurt. And it's pathetic. It's horribly pathetic. I never thought in a million years I would be that person who would let something like this get to me. I'm upset that I'm upset. I'm so mad at myself for being upset because in the grand scheme of things, I'm okay and a lot better off than other. I know it's a bunch of background issues all bubbling over the surface in addition to the main problem, but still. I shouldn't be this horribly upset.

I've hardly spoken all day because I am genuinely, deathly afraid of what will come out of my mouth if I open it. I just want to go to sleep for a year. I tried taking a nap and couldn't stop shaking long enough to do so.

I don't feel like doing anything except lay in this bed until life becomes okay again.
And it's killing me.

Dec. 18th, 2010

some trees

Come sit next to me, pour yourself some tea

Today was kind of just awesome.

For the past week or so, everything has just seemed sort of...stale, I guess. I rarely left the house, and if I did, it was to work. Otherwise I would sit in my bed on my computer for about 20 hours before passing out at ridiculous-o-clock in the morning and waking up well after noon. It's been pretty terrible actually.

Then today happened and made everything great again.

It started out with me getting my first paycheck in a month. From there on, it escalated into a whirlwind of glorious events.

James came home today. I hadn't seen him since August. A huge group of us (Patrick, Brianda, Wil, Me, Mikayla, Taylor, Kami, Charlie, fuckin' Alex Craig (who no one fucking invited, as usual), and Roman) found the perfect hiding spot outside his house so we could surprise him when he came home. We would have gotten away with surprising him, too, if Charlie hadn't looked around the corner while wearing a fluorescent yellow shirt.

That was a lovely hour. Within minutes, the children were wreaking havoc and causing a huge commotion in James' house while his dad kind of looked appalled. But then his dad talked to me for a while, actually sought me out of the horde of people so he could talk to me. That was interesting.

Anyway, it made my entire week to see James again. Four months was much too long for him to be away. James is one of those people that are not possible to hate. Everyone loves James. He's one of my closest male friends. He was my marching parter. He was there at the end of all things, you know? It filled my entire being with glee to be able to see him again, and hug him again, and run my hand through his 'fro.

After that, there was A Very Babyman Christmas shopping. Which entailed many shenanigans and shopping for vegan baking goods for Shavon. We were like some horribly dysfunctional family, going grocery shopping together while herp derping around Trader Joe's.

Babyman shenanigans always bring a smile to my face. I could be diagnosed with some terminal illness and Shandra or Shavon would find a way to make me laugh about it, I know they would. I'm probably way too excited for Sunday, when A Very Babyman Christmas actually takes place, even though Shandra's goddamn gift has shown no sign of ever arriving.

Also, I think Shavon fell asleep in the back of my car a couple of times, to which I say: she sucks.

Then I went to the basketball game to hang out with James and Wil some more, which was fun. I mean, you know, about as fun as basketball games usually get. Someone did get arrested though, to throw a curveball in. Alex and Wil played their saxophones on either side of my head to ensure I am fully deaf, James drank 210394810398504925 bottles of root beer, I distracted everyone so that no one knew what was going on. Just like old times. Almost giving the illusion of still having a life and being completely surrounded by friends. Oh, best of all was that my hands were finally not freezing cold for like an hour because Wil let me steal the body heat radiating from his goddamn fire-like hands. Alex and Wil are my hand-holding buddies in the sense that both of those fuckers have toasty hands all the time and allow me to hold their hands so that mine aren't freezing whenever I see them.

That was a tangent. Anyway, I think the moment when it truly clicked that this was a fantastic-fucking-day was after the game and James just came over and hugged me and put his head on my head and just stayed like that for like two minutes. God, that sounds like it has romantic connotations. I swear it doesn't. It felt like finally after a whirlwind of chaotic events, we finally got the chance to truly say hello to each other and let each other know how much we were missed. Through a hug. That doesn't make sense. I don't care, I'm sticking with it.

Then you know, there were after-game shenanigans and I drove Connor and Jordan to McDonalds to meet up with some other people. and Jesus, that was a terrible car ride. Rather than sit in the cleared off seat in the back or even drive his own fucking car, Jordan just decided to sit on top of all my shit collected in one-half of my back seat while Connor kept turning on my hazard lights while I was driving. Which probably would have pissed me off if I hadn't already been on a happy-high from the rest of the day.

I don't know. Nothing particularly amazing or special even happened today. It was just a bunch of little, awesome things built up to keep me smiling throughout the day. I got to hang out with my two best girl friends (Shandra and Shavon, obviously) and my two best guy friends (Wil and James). It wasn't peaceful, it was chaotic, it was noisy, it was obnoxious. But it was perfect.

Nov. 27th, 2010

some trees

Can't you see I'm tryin'?

I'm sick of people complaining.

Bitching and moaning about this, that, he, she, it. "My life sucks, everytime I go home I want to die, I hate this person, I hate everyone around me, today someone glared at me, blah blah blah."

Yes, I do realize my own hypocrisy and the irony of complaining about the complaints, but seriously. Your life is not that bad. You want to know real irony? The people that legitimately have something to complain about are more often than not the ones who keep their mouth shut.

I'm trying really hard to cut back on how much I whine and bitch about things. I think I've done a fairly good job. It's mostly all in the name of fun and sarcasm now. And I understand that people have off days. I have them, you have them, everyone has them and sometimes on those days, the things just fly. I get it.

But everyone is consistently and relentessly bitching day after day after goddamn day and I can't take it anymore.

If you really think your life is that bad then move to Anarctica or somewhere where nothing in the entire world can annoy you. Until then, get over yourself and accept life for what it is.

Nov. 24th, 2010

Sean Hayes

I know.

So, I haven't posted in a while. I think maybe because I don't want to talk about anything. Or I'm afraid that by talking about things, I'll seal them into place. I don't actually know why, but every time I brought up the 'Post an Entry' page, I would get through two sentences or so, and just couldn't bring myself to care enough to type the rest.

It's not as though my life has been incredibly interesting since I last updated.

I'm going to try my hardest to post more.

Oct. 21st, 2010

Sean Hayes

I'm afraid I'm alone and entirely useless

I think I'm working too hard.

And I don't mean working at Grocery Outlet. Well, I do, but not exclusively. I feel like I'm putting way too much effort into everything. Like I'm running and running and running after something that I'll never reach.

I should just stop. I should've stopped a while ago, but something has kept me from doing so. I can't pinpoint it, but there's still that last vestige of hope that some day I'll obtain whatever it is I'm sprinting toward.

I just hope I don't drop dead of exhaustion first.

Oct. 1st, 2010

Sean Hayes


A survey to pass my timeCollapse )

Sep. 26th, 2010

Sean Hayes


Everyone who talks about their first loves or falling in love with people and being in happy relationships and having people love them and blah blah blah blah blah:

I don't know, lately I've begun to realize how lonely I am. And there's like nothing I can do about it. It seems that no matter how hard I try, no one is interested. Whatever.


Sep. 23rd, 2010

Sean Hayes

(no subject)

Oh, college, how do I describe you?

Well, first off, I shouldn't even be referring to it as college. It's basically just a congregation of morons, drunks, middle-aged women, filthy dudes, and bros. Community college is just like high school, but with a bunch of losers deciding that school will help them get their lives in order as your classmates instead of normal people within your age bracket.

I start every single day bright and early (because 9:00 is way too early for me to be awake, but whatever) with calculus. Now, you would think that the hardest math class available within such a worthless college wouldn't be filled with a bunch of bros. Let me tell you: YOU WOULD BE WRONG. There's only about six girls in the class, and the rest are fucking bros, with the occasionally "cool dude" who shouts out the answers to questions before they're even fully written, as if people actually give a shit that he can do math. Dude, you're in calculus, we can all do math, just kill yourself already.

But you'd also think that calculus would be, you know, hard. WELL, MY FRIEND, YOU ARE MISTAKEN. We're doing algebraic math I learned three years ago. I fell asleep in my class yesterday for about 35 minutes, woke up, and the professor was talking about quadratic functions. Then I went back to sleep, because I am literally offended that someone would expect me to give up precious minutes of sleep so they can teach me basic high school math. Also, the woman assigns like 134985719230479231075 problems a night, which wouldn't be a big deal if I could use CALCULUS to solve them in one step. But no, I have to do it algebraically.

Now, if it were a Friday, that would be it. I would drag my ass out of bed to go to my one class and then be back home by 10:00 and sleep for two more hours. But every other day, I get to drag my ass around campus, looking for ways to kill an hour, then haul my 90 pound textbook across the boardwalk to the south forty and go to chemistry.

My chemistry class has like 100 kids stuffed into a lecture hall while my professor (who goes by John, because he "does" John, and not Mr. Harold) types up the notes in all caps (I swear to God, his caps lock is on all the time.) He started off the first class of the year by telling us this will be the hardest class we have ever taken, period. Then proceeds to teach us about states of matter, as if we were in fourth grade science class. And the labs we're doing this quarter are the exact same ones I did in high school chemistry two goddamn years ago.

And for some reason, all of our homework for Chem is online. Like...literally all of it. And it's by the chapter, so we have like two weeks to do eight problems or some ridiculous shit. and then there's the labs, which are due on Friday for me (which is really convenient, considering that, you know, there's no class on Friday (how the fuck do i turn it in?)). I was freaking out about finding a lab partner, because I figured no one would want to partner with someone missing the first lab, and I would be stuck with the creepy 40 year-old dude named Roger who comes late to every class. Or my ex-friend's older brother whom I've only met a few times, and he was too stoned on medical marijuana to know anything. But then some girl came and asked if she could be my lab partner, and was fine doing a density lab (seriously, a fucking density lab. I did that shit in 7th grade) without me.

So, John goes on about nothing for an hour, and my labs are on Wednesdays from 1-4.

Then there is Psychology of Human Relations.

So, as if me wanting to kill myself already weren't enough, God decides to kick me every Tuesday and Thursday evening at five-thirty by making me attend this wretched class. I have it with Krista, but even so, I'd rather shoot myself in the brain stem than walk into that miserable tiny room with Rob (because we call him either Rob or Dr. Cherry, and as Shandra pointed out today, Dr. Cherry sounds like some shitty 80's hair metal band.) Within five minutes, Rob is boring me to tears by telling the class a story about how he lost a tuna-fish sandwich in his car and never found it in his monotone voice. And about how cool he is because he commutes here from Seattle every day.

This class is basically glorified group therapy. We talk about our experiences and then everyone else gets to comment on them and analyze how you should be feeling about the situation or something. Which is horrible enough. OH, BUT IT'S SO MUCH WORSE.

Rob broke the class into little discussion groups of five people each. We counted off for groups. Now, to make clear; everyone in this class is a loser. About 85% of the class are 20-30 year old losers going back to school to raise their self-esteem or something, and the rest are poor, poor teenagers who got roped into the class to fill their diversity credit. So, really, a group with anyone was going to be pretty terrible. But I got the four pieces of fucking scum that would be stuck to the bottom of everyone else's shoe for my group. Not a single person is younger than 28 except for me, and the oldest is probably in her mid-40's, been divorced twice, and is having mid-life crisis or something. Then there is the mid-30's cancer survivor who spends her free time playing WoW. A generic loser in her late 20's, and some fucker with long, nasty hair who wants to be a teacher and started talking about shooting up heroin and babies shooting up heroin when asked about self-esteem. I didn't just get the rejects, I got the people rejected by the rejects.

At least there's like, no homework for that class. There's two reflection papers. So, basically we have a month to write a paper about ourselves that's only supposed to be two pages double-spaced.

I don't know, everything is just so...easy. It's the people that get me. The fucking people are wretched.

Whatever, I'll live with it for two years. Because I have no money and no hope at a scholarship worth much.

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