(no subject)
I've often wondered how peoples' views on me would change if they were to see the entirety of my personality. There's one person out there that can claim they've seen it. One. That's it. I know this for sure, because I have some very private and personal sides, which though some of you may claim to know all my sides, you've never seen it. And I'm not even sure if that one person knows all of my personality, because I'm not even sure if they were paying attention.
Thus to the point of this post. I have three levels of security, my open posts, my friends posts, and a very very small third grouping that's the only group that can see all my thoughts that I've written down. Normally, this post would be put into the cutesy little third group, but as I'm in such a blazing generous mood, I'm going to share with all of you! How fun.
I've begun to wonder if there are honestly any limits to the immensity of the stupidity I am capable of. Honestly I mean really... going out with her, when I'm in an incredibly bad mood over her... oh yes, I'm immensely sure this will help me feel better, Espicially considering how it was someone whom she hasn't really talked to since she got home, so she's got all these brand new stories to tell. Honestly, I don't care if she's repeating the stories, really don't. When I'm in a good mood, they make me rather depressed. Oh great! This just seems like it's going great places. So, I'm upset and now depressed! Someone! Please! Kill me now! I really don't care how, so long as it doesn't take more than a couple minutes. Even if there's a "bleed to death" period after that, It won't be nearly as painful as say, slowly being lowered into acid. A quick jump in and I'd be fucking peachy! I mean, what the fuck do I expect? It frustrates me to no fucking end, that I know what the hell I'm getting into and I still don't manage to keep my hopes down enough that I don't have my heart torn out and sliced to pieces over again every fucking time. And don't any of you suggest that I need "time off" or "some time away from her". Bull fucking shit. The times when she does actually pay a sembalance of attention to me are fast becoming the moments I live for. I rather feel that I've frightened her off or something, with the way it seems she avoids talking directly to me. I'm such a fucking whore too. No, not whore, nor fucking. I'm a slut, cause I'm not worth paying, and I'm not fucking cause I don't think I could. Woo for backlashes! Oh wait. No. They can go burn in hell. No... I'm just a bad slut. I can't get what I want, so what do I do? I've no clue on how to define it, but it sure as hell feels like preying on my friends. I just don't care anymore. I cause more of a nuisance then I'm worth. I'm getting quite settled into my brand new routine. The whole guilt-desire-guilt-desire-etcetc bit. It's quite a jolly bucket of fun, complete with free incrimination. Hiding away would be best. I imagine I'd hurt less, I'd feel less guilty, and I'd less of a burden! Woo, I don't see a downside. Bring on the summer, so I can set my plan into motion. Oh wait! I do see a problem. She'll call, and it'll take her nine words, count 'em, NINE words, and I'll be in such a guilt complex, and I'll bend over backwards twice for her, and I know it. It won't even take her as much effort and I'll be doing backflips and balancing a ball on my nose.
FUCK IT ALL. I've said it before, I'll say it again.. I wish I cut right now.
Thus to the point of this post. I have three levels of security, my open posts, my friends posts, and a very very small third grouping that's the only group that can see all my thoughts that I've written down. Normally, this post would be put into the cutesy little third group, but as I'm in such a blazing generous mood, I'm going to share with all of you! How fun.
I've begun to wonder if there are honestly any limits to the immensity of the stupidity I am capable of. Honestly I mean really... going out with her, when I'm in an incredibly bad mood over her... oh yes, I'm immensely sure this will help me feel better, Espicially considering how it was someone whom she hasn't really talked to since she got home, so she's got all these brand new stories to tell. Honestly, I don't care if she's repeating the stories, really don't. When I'm in a good mood, they make me rather depressed. Oh great! This just seems like it's going great places. So, I'm upset and now depressed! Someone! Please! Kill me now! I really don't care how, so long as it doesn't take more than a couple minutes. Even if there's a "bleed to death" period after that, It won't be nearly as painful as say, slowly being lowered into acid. A quick jump in and I'd be fucking peachy! I mean, what the fuck do I expect? It frustrates me to no fucking end, that I know what the hell I'm getting into and I still don't manage to keep my hopes down enough that I don't have my heart torn out and sliced to pieces over again every fucking time. And don't any of you suggest that I need "time off" or "some time away from her". Bull fucking shit. The times when she does actually pay a sembalance of attention to me are fast becoming the moments I live for. I rather feel that I've frightened her off or something, with the way it seems she avoids talking directly to me. I'm such a fucking whore too. No, not whore, nor fucking. I'm a slut, cause I'm not worth paying, and I'm not fucking cause I don't think I could. Woo for backlashes! Oh wait. No. They can go burn in hell. No... I'm just a bad slut. I can't get what I want, so what do I do? I've no clue on how to define it, but it sure as hell feels like preying on my friends. I just don't care anymore. I cause more of a nuisance then I'm worth. I'm getting quite settled into my brand new routine. The whole guilt-desire-guilt-desire-etcetc bit. It's quite a jolly bucket of fun, complete with free incrimination. Hiding away would be best. I imagine I'd hurt less, I'd feel less guilty, and I'd less of a burden! Woo, I don't see a downside. Bring on the summer, so I can set my plan into motion. Oh wait! I do see a problem. She'll call, and it'll take her nine words, count 'em, NINE words, and I'll be in such a guilt complex, and I'll bend over backwards twice for her, and I know it. It won't even take her as much effort and I'll be doing backflips and balancing a ball on my nose.
FUCK IT ALL. I've said it before, I'll say it again.. I wish I cut right now.