(no subject)
I stared at myself in the mirror as I got ready to venture out into a place my anxiety would probably overrule my charming personality. Nothing has changed yet. Weeks of running and torturing my body and stuffing disgusting food down my throat when I'd much rather be eating things I enjoy hasn't made me any happier. As I turn to the side, squint my eyes, and sip my bloody mary, I can't help but sigh. But I'll stick to it. Heaven knows its more motivation than I've had as long as I can remember. I will be beautiful. I will be desired.
The blonde boy that will probably never get the hint that I'm not interested winks at me from across the room. The cute boy in glasses I'd like to steal straight off his face, but probably isn't interested in me at all entertains me for the moment. "It's taken the bartender way too long to get such a pretty lady a drink." "I know! All I need is my whiskey and I'll be set on facing these douches!" Continue witty banter. I know I'm not cute enough, so I make eye contact and flirt, but look down immediately after. Continue ignoring the faces of the people I spent the most time around for four years of my life. All around me, the masses of people form seas of sweaty bodies, constantly colliding and looking for a hard (or sometimes soft) person to cascade into.
Woman disappoint me, men see right through me. I get in the car and start the engine. It's long past time for me to go home. Long past time for me to be in the only place I feel I belong: in my room with a big drink and and even bigger to-do list.
The blonde boy that will probably never get the hint that I'm not interested winks at me from across the room. The cute boy in glasses I'd like to steal straight off his face, but probably isn't interested in me at all entertains me for the moment. "It's taken the bartender way too long to get such a pretty lady a drink." "I know! All I need is my whiskey and I'll be set on facing these douches!" Continue witty banter. I know I'm not cute enough, so I make eye contact and flirt, but look down immediately after. Continue ignoring the faces of the people I spent the most time around for four years of my life. All around me, the masses of people form seas of sweaty bodies, constantly colliding and looking for a hard (or sometimes soft) person to cascade into.
Woman disappoint me, men see right through me. I get in the car and start the engine. It's long past time for me to go home. Long past time for me to be in the only place I feel I belong: in my room with a big drink and and even bigger to-do list.