The Blog version of the articles written by Studly-C, and presented on the LTM site at www.loserturdmafia.com

Contrary to popular belief, I am not yet among the dead. I will begin this article with two things. First, I would like to apologize to Jesse and my [why, I cannot fathom] fans. I have been told many people like to read my articles, yet I do not see it. Secondly, my current English course, while having me write many papers, they are all based in formatting and information; it is an argumentation course. Because of that, and slacking on my Stud Says, I have not had an outlet for emotional writings, however little emotion I have. Due to that, this one may be a little over done. But that is alright, isn’t it? Because, in a way, this is dedicated to them. And I will probably regret sending it as soon as I do. Regardless of knowing of my future regret, I am going to write and submit it anyway.



Steve


I believe I have know Steve the longest out of everyone. I met him in eighth grade, in home economics. I still am unsure why, but he decided to talk to me while I sat at the end of a table, as per-usual, in a secluded quiet state of mind. He started to talk to me for no apparent reason, and then began to ask me to share lunch with him and his companions. I never minded his banter because I had just recently lost my last bit of friends, after realizing I was their fall-back guy. I enjoyed his banter then, and I have ever since. For a long time he was the one person I could actually talk to, and not feel a fool. Sometimes we would actually talk about real issues that might have been troubling us. He was the person who gave me the boost to actually crumble some on the isolation I made for myself by giving me the confidence of asking a certain person to my senior prom. I will no doubt forever remember the moment, and every time I play Diablo 2, I can still see him telling me, “Go for it. Now lets kill some shit.” He always seems to know what I like, and what I do not. He could even tell me something I enjoy without me knowing I like doing it so much. And if I have some contempt for a person, he knows as soon as I feel it. Whether he can tell I am depressed or not, I am actually not sure. He either cannot tell, or lets me seethe in way I like.

Although we still talk about all the entertaining dribble we both love, and he is still the only person I can talk to without feeling a fool; I miss the heart to hearts we would have on those rare occasions. Even if when he was upset he hit me in the face.



Jesse

Jesse is a piece of rank shit. I am uncertain how else to put it. The friendship we manage to have is filled with oddities I have never considered. I met Jesse my sophomore year, and while I did not really spend time with him until my senior art class, I could feel his charisma like so many can. After the year living with him in the apartments of USI, I came to realize Jesse and I have a lot in common as well. The movies and books we enjoy are painstakingly similar, and any one he recommends, I am never disappointed in. The way the oddity begins is from the most aggravating trait he has. Every time I make a fool of myself [which is often], may it be my procrastination, my lack of interest and goals, or anything else he can see, he is the first person to point it out. In the harshest way possible, or at least the most uncaring. The most aggravating part is he is always right. Every time I was a fool, and I deserved the ridicule; and I would have been just as blunt as he, and I respect the bluntness. However, I also feel the reason he points it out, is not only to entertain himself and others with stating my flaws, but because he actually does care. Maybe? And he wants me to enhance myself, perhaps. In contrast, Jesse is one of the few people to understand my overall systems. All of the car rides to and from any establishment open past 2 in the morning were always enjoyable. He would always tell me the philosophies he had, and did not mind if I did not retort much. I took it all in, and some of his ideas really made me think. If he just liked to hear himself talk, or if he knew, even though I do not like to talk much, I love to be talked to I am unsure. He seems to know when I am a little down. The time Alyssa came to visit us at USI, and, perhaps he did not know why, I was a touch depressed and he tried to cheer me up with a few jokes. I appreciated that then, and still do. Jesse was also the person to help me with the problem of what to do with the girl I asked to my senior prom, when I started to realize she drastically lost interest. The letter I sent worked almost as well as I hoped, and went just as well as I expected.

The most memorable car ride was when he said he knew I would do almost anything he asked me to, not because I am some automaton or easily peer-pressured, but because I had no reason not to do it; he also told me he understood its not that I don’t care about anything, but rather than I have nothing to care about. Since then I feel Jesse understands me rather well. Even if he does not remember any of these times.



Sam Powell

Sam Powell has always been a guide for me, even before we became good friends. Really meeting her in my physics class, I felt a certain bond with her. Mistaking it for a crush, I lived a while in fear of Steve. But when I realized it was a kinship closer than I could imagine I felt a sense of relief. She has managed to be a protective guardian of my emotion well-being. During my senior year, the girl I was trying desperately to kindle a relationship with tended to turn me directions I had not intended on going, but Sam Powell tried to steer me in the right direction. Being my eyes-and-ears, she help me cipher my way around, and gave me more than helpful advice. Even while making me feel like the most moronic person to exist, when we talked about events and feelings in our times I felt a sense of appreciation I did not get from anyone else. Maybe because she was one of the few who did talk to me that way. And her telling me of the passions she has for causes almost makes me feel like I have some passions of my own.

Sam Powell and Steve are unquestionably my best friends. Rivaling each other for the top. And now they are all but married to one another. Most people would think having your two best friends marry would be fantastic. You would get to spend time with both of them all the time. I can attest it is not the greatest thing ever. All of that time I get to spend with both of them I tend to feel like a third wheel. Since it happened, sometimes it seems we are not as close as we were, that being true or not will probably be debated.



Gary

Even though Gary does not have the internet anymore, or maybe because of that, I will write about him as well. Gary is the only other person I can talk with and not feel like an idiot. When I first met Gary I felt there was something in common between us. Neither of us are overly social and feel a touch awkward in large groups. We also are very pessimistic. Gary was also the person to help me wade into another lady which decided to tell take a special interest in me, and then suddenly retract her feelings. Gary and I do not get to talk as much about beliefs and personal problems anymore either, which I suppose is to be expected. Still, while I am continuing to live a life of self exile he is setting himself on the market, and doing well by the talk of it.

It was Jesse who said I put myself in places to get hurt because I enjoy the pain, that is what I live for. A hopeless romantic draped in a trench coat of nihilism? Maybe he is right, but as far as I am concerned, these four people are currently the most important in my life at the moment. …wait that was redundant.

This has got to be the worst Stud Say yet. I swear…I try and use this one for them and it still feels like I am promoting myself. I take a few months off and this is what happens…Hopefully the next one will be better.

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