I wonder what makes a Troll a Troll???

Normally I don’t give negative, miserable people any thought. I believe in energy attracting like energy; so if you’re doing your damnedest to live joyfully, and peacefully in a mad, mad world, you absolutely MUST CUT OUT ALL NEGATIVE things. Including people. These people can be human beings that you know, or in the case of Trolls, people that you don’t know.

Life is so short. Too short to spend it consumed with anything but love. It is cliche, but it is also true, that the only thing that heals and makes everything better is love.

Which makes me “go hmmm” in regards to Trolls. Are they Les Miserables because they don’t have love, didn’t have love? Or is it as some suggest, the old fashion “negative attention is better than no attention”??? I just don’t get it, like at all.

I don’t know about all of you, but I don’t have enough hours in the day to shower love on all the friends I follow on social media, with encouraging comments, and support. I sure as shit don’t have time to go around harassing people I’ve never even met. Yet so many people do. Like by the hundreds of thousands. How? I have to know, where do they find the time?

Do they not sleep??

Do they not eat??

Do they live alone in a basement, eating junk food, fueling their body with crap and spewing that toxicity all over the world at innocent people who are just here for a good time?

What’s their story? This is what I’d really love to know. Like if my little Troll would actually communicate with me, without spewing hate I’d love to ask her what it is she’s after.

Back in 9th grade I had this girl who wanted to beat the shit out of me. She would tell me each and every day that she was going to kill me. Every day would come to an end, and she would still not have come after me. But, every day she threatened from morning until classes let out. I was unnerved, to say the least. She was much bigger than I was, and she had a reputation for being a bad ass bitch. I definitely didn’t want to fight her. Yet, although I was much smaller, I was tough. Tougher than anybody would give me credit for if they were to judge me based on my appearance. What nobody could have known about me, was that I was raised in an abusive household, my dad battled with alcoholism my entire childhood, now he’s sober a decade and I couldn’t be prouder of him. Plus I had two brothers, and we definitely took our fear about what the day would bring when dad got home out on one another. I could fight. I once fought off five boys who attacked me in my own home, with the intent to rape me. I beat them all off. So, should this girl really want to go at me, although I didn’t want to, I would protect and defend myself.

The part of the whole dance that pissed me off was that it went on, and on, and on, with zero outcome.

Beat me up already. Seriously.

One day I had had enough of her threats; so I rode her bus home, which went in the opposite direction of mine. When the bus got to the end of the line, I got off with her, then I called her name. She turned. A hush came over the crowd of kids who were on the bus with us, my high school boyfriend stood behind me. I walked up to her and simply said: “Kathy, what’s your problem with me? Why do you want to fight me??”

“Because I hate you.”

“Okay. But why do you hate me? I don’t even know you?” I questioned her.

“Because I just do.” Was her reply.

“All right, so do you want to fight then? I mean we’re both here…”

She stared at me for what seemed like forever, my stomach in my feet, palms sweaty, hopeful that me coming to her would have the end result I was hoping for…

“Just forget it.” She answered, then walked away.

The next day in english class she slipped me a letter. It was four pages long, and it was beautiful. I won’t divulge what she wrote here, just in case by some small miracle she remembers me and is reading my daily musings. Suffice it to say that she and I actually became friends, not the sort of let’s have a sleep over type friends, but would talk in classes and in the halls. She was one of the sweetest girls I knew all through high school.

Which makes me wonder about Trolls. Are they bitter because of jealousy?? Do they secretly wish they could be friends with the people they heave their vileness onto?? Or are they just shitty, unfeeling humans??

I prefer to believe that they’re lonely people, looking for attention, and they don’t know how to communicate in a positive, constructive way. They weren’t given the tools to adequately put into words both positive and negative emotions. They don’t have the skills to challenge people’s opinions without attacking them. I hold onto the notion that deep down inside, every single one of us is inherently good, decent, kind, and loving. Humans that spend their days in darkness, emotionally, simply need the opportunity, support and the space to learn how to be their best selves.

So my little Troll, if you’re reading this, which it seems that you still do, know that I have no ill feelings toward you. I get that you’re anger has less to do with me, and everything to do with you.

But if you keep bugging me, I might just find you and ask you straight up, what the fuck is your problem with me, and if you want to fight.

Hahaha I kid, I kid ; )