Saturday, March 14, 2009

Rant: 1 of 250,386,789,257

So, here I am, right. Curled up peacefully in my bed, stretching in accordance to the movements in my dreams. But then the sun, the same sun that befriended me so kindly yesterday, wakes me up before my alarm. The first thing I thought of was how bitter I was about having to wake up in such a lonesome condition. The second thing I thought of was how badly I had to pee. The third thing I thought of was how sad it must be to be someone like me, someone who forgets to count her blessings and instead dwells on her "misfortunes" (I have no misfortunes. I've had a great life. I'm fucking alive.) and her inability to accept the inevitability of being alone. The fourth thought that came to mind was something about wanting that work out machine, you know, the one sold by that dude with the creepy ponytail? (I fell asleep to infomercials, or at least that's my excuse. OH! And I really want that 50's music box set sold by Bowzer from Sha Na Na)

AND ANOTHER THING, I went out with friends last night and the focus of our conversation was how to manipulate relationships and peoples perceptions in order to get your point across. Why can't people just fucking say how they feel? Why be vague and mysterious about it? Why would you purposefully confuse and potentially hurt someone you care about all because some unwritten rule in the book of "love" says you must do it in order to "win"? What's so great about winning, anyway?! Can't there be something beautiful to be said for losing once and a while? I mean, when you lose something or someone, you fight even harder. When you win, all you can do is hope to not lose.

I don't like being a third wheel.

I haven't had a period since November.

conclusion of rant.

I cleaned my room. I'm all dressed and ready to go. But instead I'm watching Rock Star with Mark Wahlberg. It's the worst movie.

Chris: Oh, maybe if I get really lucky, I'll get to grow up and listen to Air Supply and wear jack boots.
Joe: What's wrong with Air Supply?
Chris: Nothing, if you're the cop from the Village People.

(In your face ridiculous fictional movie character. In. Your. Face.)

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