That’s Not My Name

Sorry if I’m curt. I apologize if I don’t smile. Sad face if I don’t look your way. If I knew why I did the things I do, then I probably wouldn’t do them. Understand? Neither do I. That’s why I’m still doing them.

A friend called up the other day. “Are you alright? You seem to be in a bad mood lately?” I immediately lowered my voice and adopted a somber tone. I made myself sound unhappy over the phone, more than I was. I dryly said goodbye. I took all joy out of my voice. I was not smiling when I talked. I don’t know why. If she wanted me to be sad, I would be sad for her. Suddenly I’m aloof. People call me Butters. That’s not my name.

I feel like I’m ganged up on. People around me seem to think it’s alright to pick fun of me. Hypocrites. They’ll yell at me for being an asshole to them when they’re assholes to me. I mimic their words, but people tend to not like their own behavior reversed on them. There is a girl who will tell people to shush, but if you shush her, she’ll throw a fit. There is a guy who comes over to hang out. He likes to pick fights. He likes to demean people’s opinions that aren’t the same as his. He does not act like a friend. He calls me Butters to put me down. It’s not my name.

I want to talk on a big red phone. I want to sit on a pedestal and never fall off. I want the table to stop rocking. I’m tired of people calling me Butters. I’m tired of being the butt of jokes. I’m tired of people not calling me my name. Not giving me respect. Forcing me to demand my respect. I shouldn’t have to demand anything. We should all be treating each other nicely. We shouldn’t have to play silly games. Why should I feel threatened in my own house? Why am I not powerful? I’m tired of dealing with people who I don’t like. It’s time for me to rid myself of extra weight.

It’s difficult being friends with people who aren’t friendly.

Dumb. Dumb people.

Tired of them not knowing who I am.

Of feeling they can tower over me just because they think they can.

Saying one thing and meaning another, for those who play and never mean what they say will always find themselves just okay. Never great.

Don’t call me something that isn’t my name. It’s insulting.

Fuck you. You think you can do that? That’s not my name.

I’m not living up to your standards? Your standards are shit. Mine are much more difficult to live by, and I fail them all the time. I don’t need to deal with your shit as well as my own. I give myself enough trouble. Get away. Leave me alone. I don’t want to talk to you.

Silly.

Silly sad face.

I’d feeeeeeeeeeeeel bad for you if you weren’t so hilariously sad.

 

Isn’t drawing fun?