A Letter From Rejection

Hi there, I’m Rejection.

Recently, I celebrated my infinite birthday. Thanks for the gift, jerk. Over it. Anyway, contrary to popular belief, I’ve been making my rounds here on earth since microorganisms discovered flirting and started shacking up together.

I didn’t always have the name I do now. Hell. At one point in time, I didn’t even have a name. What did you expect? We didn’t even have language. That’s beside the point. I’m rambling, now. Sorry. I do that from time to time..

In the last several hundred centuries, I’ve become pretty special. In fact, there are millions of modern humans convinced I was born solely to torment them. It’s cute, really. Me? Born for you? Ha.

Something about that thought makes me feel so warm and fuzzy inside. Not only do I frolick in their minds allllll day long, but get this…some even tell their friends about my shenanigans. They’ll tell anyone who will listen that Rejection only visits them. Yeah. They tell their families, Facebook…it’s endless. I caught this girl subtweeting about me the other day. Quick question: does anybody know how this affects my Klout score?

Anyway. I prefer to hear their constant talk of me as endless affection and not for what it really is: whining about Rejection. These people secretly love me. They crave the attention I bring them.

Let’s be serious. I’m on a first name basis with nearly everything and everyone that has ever lived on this earth. It’s just that these particular highly-sensitive and insecure people believe I have a special icy treat JUST for them. Get this. They actually believe that nobody else feels my sting like they do. They’re a “special-case” –- as if I reserve all my time and energy for them. Lulz.

Seriously though, can you believe that? I’m only one man…one thing? Whatever. I can only do so much! Don’t get me wrong. The sentiments are flattering. They are. I’m practically blushing while I write this. I just wish I could get these people to understand what it’s like to be me…what it’s like to be Rejection.

There is one universal concept they can’t seem to grasp: I visit everyone equally. In fact, I actually prefer to harass the really successful people most. I get desperate for their attention. They’re too busy doing cool shit and they don’t seem to care when good ole Rejection shows up for playtime. I actually have to try and win their affection. I hate trying…but I love it. I need it. Unlike the others where all I have to do is peek my head in the door and they give up…ugh…it all just leaves such a bad taste in my mouth.

Can I tell you a secret? Privately, I despise the people who love me. They just throw themselves at me. “Hey Rejection! Can I have yo numba?!” No. You can’t. I need my space.

I’m rambling again…

Let’s talk about the “successful” people I love chasing after. I’m not one to swear (often), but seriously, they’re insensitive assholes. I can’t ever get them to notice me. I work my butt off all day, give it my best, throw everything I have at them hoping they’ll feel my wrath at every opportune moment; yet, they couldn’t care less. What do I have to do to get them to notice me?!

Don’t get me wrong – I loooove picking on the weak-minded and feeble-spirited people who bow and surrender at my feet. DANCE FOR ME PUPPETS!

…but the people I really want to reach are the ones who don’t care about me, the ones who are shattering the status quo and making something of their lives.

You know who I’m talking about, right? It’s the guy who keeps going to career fairs, because he knows he’ll get that job eventually. It’s that girl who works her ass off despite doing poorly on her last exam. She has no excuses. It’s the dreamers. The doers. THESE are the people I want to notice me.

Opposite to the doers are the “other folk” endlessly blasting me with attention. (Think, Blitzkrieg.) Between you and me, though, let me tell you what I really think. People who think I’m special…are losers. I know I’ve gone back and forth on this but there it is. I said it.

Losers.

Why would I willingly spend time with people who don’t even have a backbone? You’re probably sitting here thinking, “REJECTION! You need to appreciate what you have in these relationships.” Hell to the no.. These deadbeats give me credit, maybe you could call it blame, for everything in their life. They orbit around me like I’m the sun -– and yeah…I saw it from the beginning. No big deal.

But really. These losers seem to think I avoid the successful people, and they couldn’t be more wrong.  They want to pretend that I’m only faithful to them, but that’s just not the case. I spend more time trying to wreck attempts at greatness…but each time I launch an attack the successful people ignore me, I just end up feeling so…so…rejected.

Wow, I guess that’s it, isn’t it? Successful people reject Rejection. Haha. That’s ironic. Oh, well. Try as they may…I won’t stop. I’m one persistent bastard. If there’s one thing I’m good at, it’s my relentless attacks…futile or not. I’ll design intricate plans to sabotage self-betterment attempts.

Don’t you worry, reader. I’m coming for you, too. I don’t care who you are. Make no mistake. I will enter your life. I will try to destroy it.

I only have one question. Are you going to pay attention to me like all the other losers? Or are you going to ignore me?

Either way…

All my best,
Rejection