I’m used to people not caring about me, don’t worry about it :)

Posted on February 8, 2013


I’m used to people not caring about me. I’m used to being pushed aside. I’m used to not being noticed. I’m used to being left out. I used to be so frustrated about this, but now that I’m older, I don’t care anymore. All those years of insignificance have made me too numb to care.

It’s like I was born invisible, but I become visible to everyone once I make a blunder. Every. One. You see, when attention comes my way, it’s usually unwanted. I think guys start realizing that I am actually walking beside them once I trip on the sidewalk (which, sadly, happened to me a month ago). On other blunder-less moments I’m as relevant as your appendix.

Bottom line: I don’t think people see me the way I want to be seen. Everyone would either think of me as strange or meh, depending on the situation. Like I said, I become visible to everyone once I make a blunder. Like being too weird for my own good and tweeting idiotic opinions.

I actually expect people to not notice me now – that’s why I get overly shocked if people actually pay attention to me. Like this blog gaining, I don’t know, three views. I freaked out on Twitter for two hours.

Popularity does not exactly come naturally to me, as you might have guessed. Throughout my school years, I was known as…what’s your name again, darling? At school dances I automatically blend in with the monobloc chairs – a very effective anti-boy camouflage. I’m so invisible that even my friends forget me from time to time. And I don’t mind.

One of the most frustrating instances of this invisibility is when I know something cool before anyone else does. All of a sudden it becomes cool, and that coolness does not rub off on me. People regard the more well-adjusted members of my generation as the cool ones. Because they’re prettier. And cooler. And more popular. And cooler. Hipster as it may sound, I totally knew those things before they became cool. Poseurs.

Invisibility has its benefits, though. It allows me to see things in a different perspective. It made me unbiased. I don’t have to be pressured by people to support or bash something because they don’t care about what I think. This is just me doing my own thing.

On my own. Always on my own. I have become comfortably numb, like Pink Floyd. Too numb to care, too numb to feel anything.

To anyone reading this, please know that if you’re going to give me attention, make it sincere. Please. That’s probably the least you can do. I’d rather have people not care about me than get fake attention.

This also goes out to that guy who I realized was someone I never really stopped liking. If you’re reading this, I want you to know something. All those years of trying to get your attention? Yeah, I never really stopped. I’m still hoping that you might have at least noticed me for a millisecond. Even if it’s because I tweeted something about 1950’s underwear, or something.

I’m not writing this because it’s nearing Valentine’s Day, okay.

But if anybody cares February is my birth month. Also I’d like to thank those four or five people who posted “happy birthday” on my wall last year. It really means a lot.