Secondary Personalities
Well, it's funny you should ask... Wait, you didn't ask, did you?
Damn these voices in my head again, speaking in proverbial tongues, telling me I should discard this positive outlet and say... well, fuck it. You know you were destined to be a cynic, just face it.
Now that I am entirely disconnected from the world I know and am used to, the world of debauchery and hedonism I have come to embrace, I was faced with a decision to better my life.... Better my life? WTF? Gee, I think in that case I may need to get a new one. Lets see. Three men I've loved in my life. One was in high school and I was apprehensive of building a "life" at 16... One I left 2 and a half years ago in search of "myself". And one who seems to enjoy sleeping with his other "girlfriends" instead of me. Yes, just sleeping, so I've been told, but the sardonic side of me gives in once again and my gut tells me, who am I kidding... No, wait, who AM I kidding? He loves me, but will never "love" me. Why, because he wants to keep the life he has now and would hate for it to be complicated with someone he may have to introduce as his... gulp... Girlfriend. Makes me sound like a typical woman. Call me anything but a fucking typical woman. Truly the best way to piss me off. Besides, I seem to be attracted to the ones that play the hardest to get. Hmmm, maybe he figured that out long before I did.
Sex? Well, thank god for batteries at this point. Granted, I could get laid if I really wanted but the best sex is 2000 some miles away in a frozen land of work and disillusionment (jesus, is that even a word), and besides, I must have only been using him for sex since there seems to be no other affection from his end.
Money? Hehe. Yeah, enough to pay for my food, clothes, drinking binges and ski trips. What more could I ask for? Except maybe a long vacation somewhere warm away from this rut of normalcy. Wait, that's what the mushrooms were for.
Health? Somewhat, though I know I could take immensely better care of myself. But then, at this point, I'd find it much more appealing to get fall down drunk at the PartyFarm for a few days and forget about being in shape.
Family? Well, they do still love me, and I them. But the more I spend with them, I see them as the majority of this country. Thinking of themselves, in their own little world and judging those around them. People ask me why its so bad for me to come home... Coming home encompasses much more than this house I helped build and a close proximity to my grandmother whose 90th birthday is fast approaching. It also includes a vast array of other deprived twenty somethings who've lost their way and come back to "regain momentum". Not to mention the ones who have never left. Those that thrive amongst their own philanderings and have absolutely nothing of value to speak of save for what the neighbour did yesterday and who got drunk and told Martha she was a cunt. Wait, I take that back about my family. They are amazingly sweet and understanding people who have a much higher intelligence and degree of tact than the rest of this community. Nonetheless, I can't wait for winter to be over to get the hell out of dodge.
Intelligence? Nope, threw that away a moment ago when I went back to being me again.
Hope? Slipping away, hence the rant clearly straying from any positivity whatsoever.
Dreams? Maybe I should just go to sleep now and hope for some intelligent dream to pass me by, give me some direction, some sort of hope, bless my family with good health, wealth and love. And with any luck the next dream to come in the wee hours of the morning may bring me some form of sexual gratification and open my eyes to the fact that I'm merely chasing my tail.
Oh, and by the way... I fucking hate Valentines now. If you happen to see Cupid, shove that arrow up his ass.
There. I feel much better now. Who the hell wrote the last few posts?
Damn these voices in my head again, speaking in proverbial tongues, telling me I should discard this positive outlet and say... well, fuck it. You know you were destined to be a cynic, just face it.
Now that I am entirely disconnected from the world I know and am used to, the world of debauchery and hedonism I have come to embrace, I was faced with a decision to better my life.... Better my life? WTF? Gee, I think in that case I may need to get a new one. Lets see. Three men I've loved in my life. One was in high school and I was apprehensive of building a "life" at 16... One I left 2 and a half years ago in search of "myself". And one who seems to enjoy sleeping with his other "girlfriends" instead of me. Yes, just sleeping, so I've been told, but the sardonic side of me gives in once again and my gut tells me, who am I kidding... No, wait, who AM I kidding? He loves me, but will never "love" me. Why, because he wants to keep the life he has now and would hate for it to be complicated with someone he may have to introduce as his... gulp... Girlfriend. Makes me sound like a typical woman. Call me anything but a fucking typical woman. Truly the best way to piss me off. Besides, I seem to be attracted to the ones that play the hardest to get. Hmmm, maybe he figured that out long before I did.
Sex? Well, thank god for batteries at this point. Granted, I could get laid if I really wanted but the best sex is 2000 some miles away in a frozen land of work and disillusionment (jesus, is that even a word), and besides, I must have only been using him for sex since there seems to be no other affection from his end.
Money? Hehe. Yeah, enough to pay for my food, clothes, drinking binges and ski trips. What more could I ask for? Except maybe a long vacation somewhere warm away from this rut of normalcy. Wait, that's what the mushrooms were for.
Health? Somewhat, though I know I could take immensely better care of myself. But then, at this point, I'd find it much more appealing to get fall down drunk at the PartyFarm for a few days and forget about being in shape.
Family? Well, they do still love me, and I them. But the more I spend with them, I see them as the majority of this country. Thinking of themselves, in their own little world and judging those around them. People ask me why its so bad for me to come home... Coming home encompasses much more than this house I helped build and a close proximity to my grandmother whose 90th birthday is fast approaching. It also includes a vast array of other deprived twenty somethings who've lost their way and come back to "regain momentum". Not to mention the ones who have never left. Those that thrive amongst their own philanderings and have absolutely nothing of value to speak of save for what the neighbour did yesterday and who got drunk and told Martha she was a cunt. Wait, I take that back about my family. They are amazingly sweet and understanding people who have a much higher intelligence and degree of tact than the rest of this community. Nonetheless, I can't wait for winter to be over to get the hell out of dodge.
Intelligence? Nope, threw that away a moment ago when I went back to being me again.
Hope? Slipping away, hence the rant clearly straying from any positivity whatsoever.
Dreams? Maybe I should just go to sleep now and hope for some intelligent dream to pass me by, give me some direction, some sort of hope, bless my family with good health, wealth and love. And with any luck the next dream to come in the wee hours of the morning may bring me some form of sexual gratification and open my eyes to the fact that I'm merely chasing my tail.
Oh, and by the way... I fucking hate Valentines now. If you happen to see Cupid, shove that arrow up his ass.
There. I feel much better now. Who the hell wrote the last few posts?
posted by Earth Bound Misfit at 1:51 AM
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