Types

The human form feels limiting at times. I find myself losing the innate feeling of physical attraction to others as time goes by. Finding someone cute is notably one of the worst cornerstones of conversation in my experience. I usually stay away from people that seem objectively attractive to everyone. Y'know, the stereotypical cunt that can only wear pink on Wednesdays.
But then there was Jayne. She defied my logic. I hated her. Not in the Romeo sense such as,"I hate thou which can loveth me not".
No. I genuinely hate her.
Her personality embodied everything I despise about this overpriced factory of pretentiousness. Even her name was just bitchy. "Jane with a Y". Like those empty shells who get named Porsche but somehow worse. She was the popular girl, nice to everyone, the talented artist, the empathetic med student. People like that aren't real in my eyes. Humans are not perfect, and if you're actively trying to be you only add to the problem while showcasing your insecurities at the same time.
That's not the only reason I loathe her. She looked exactly like my type. Glasses, short matte hair, outward body language of an introvert, the simple girl that feels different because they actually are. Every single bit is a Façade. She's accepted and worshiped by her peers to a disgusting degree. She held the same exact personage as those robotic skeletons with long straight blonde hair, that wear a full face of make up every day, that go to film school for a "usual summer vay cay". They lack any and all curves. No ridges or bumps. No useful conversation. Not a single fucking defining feature. Yet they think to themselves"I'm so interesting, and unique I should put a pink streak in my hair".
I hate her for ruining my type. Now my taste is entirely based off of personality. It makes libido quite meaningless really. I can't bring myself to fuck someone who I can't stand having a conversation with because at that point they aren't a someone to me. Just another copy of a copy. With all the gifts to climb the social ladder with a lack of genuineness.
•••
Do you have any clue as to how wonderful it is to realize someone truly appreciates you for who you are? Of course not, no one knows who you really are, Jayne. Not even you.
I hate your type and I hate everything about you. If it bothers you, blame the two of them for giving me standards.
In fact, I pity you even more than I hate you, really. Because you will never know what it's like to be unconditionally loved.