Fritz Woo's magical factory of wonder. We make smiles.
I feel like an ass-- well I always do but that’s not the point, I want everyone to freakin' die and it's just not the happy go round of delightitude that I was trying to construct for myself and those around me. I know I don't update a lot... blah blah blah... same old story, cue micro violin, I’m leaving this live journal. I've been poked and poked into getting a My Space account, so maybe in a day or two I’ll re-surface over there. Now for the loose ends:
Justin, we're no longer friends. This doesn't mean I’m disowning you or some boo hoo angst shit because I’m not getting enough attention, or a self-righteous "me right, you wrong, ooga booga" meandering. I'm just avoiding the surge of bullshit torrenting downwards in my direction. Nothings going to change really, I mean sheesh you're in freakin' Spain. Concentrate on Tasha and totally forget about me for awhile, maybe you'll find it's a happier life. One day out of the blue I’ll probably just show up at your door and we'll sit down and play videogames like nothing ever happened. I have no idea, but despite feeling pretty good about myself lately I don't want to spend it all away making some farce of peace with Tasha-- whom I saw on-line earlier... and I said to myself "She won't talk to me, she never faces up to anything... only evades" and bam, she signed off. Which is what I’m doing now, but dammit I’ve earned some vacation time from this, let someone else swallow their pride for once. It's like I’m fucking reading a book with the same shit written on every page. Anyway... no, I haven't re-lapsed into my old self, nor does my outrage stretch much farther beyond that phone call. So... yeah, lets just not talk for awhile.
Tasha, you suck and I still love you. I should start writing poetry.
Nikki, err... call me whenever you feel like it, if it all... I guess. No obligations.
Farewell everyone. There will be no repeat performance and no refunds. Have a lovely day.
Justin, we're no longer friends. This doesn't mean I’m disowning you or some boo hoo angst shit because I’m not getting enough attention, or a self-righteous "me right, you wrong, ooga booga" meandering. I'm just avoiding the surge of bullshit torrenting downwards in my direction. Nothings going to change really, I mean sheesh you're in freakin' Spain. Concentrate on Tasha and totally forget about me for awhile, maybe you'll find it's a happier life. One day out of the blue I’ll probably just show up at your door and we'll sit down and play videogames like nothing ever happened. I have no idea, but despite feeling pretty good about myself lately I don't want to spend it all away making some farce of peace with Tasha-- whom I saw on-line earlier... and I said to myself "She won't talk to me, she never faces up to anything... only evades" and bam, she signed off. Which is what I’m doing now, but dammit I’ve earned some vacation time from this, let someone else swallow their pride for once. It's like I’m fucking reading a book with the same shit written on every page. Anyway... no, I haven't re-lapsed into my old self, nor does my outrage stretch much farther beyond that phone call. So... yeah, lets just not talk for awhile.
Tasha, you suck and I still love you. I should start writing poetry.
Nikki, err... call me whenever you feel like it, if it all... I guess. No obligations.
Farewell everyone. There will be no repeat performance and no refunds. Have a lovely day.