Dude, someone in the lab just totally farted. It is hella rank in here, I'm leaving.
My estimated time of writing actual entries is approximately five weeks. I am hella busy til then.
I also have tentative plans to have these hella sexy pictures of myself taken by this photographer I know for around that time. I think hella I might actually get naked for some of them, not that I will actually get naked pictures taken, but hella you know.
I think I'm going to get a few pictures where I look like the naked chicks in the Nivea magazine ads, where they are coiled into a weird naked pretzel that strategically covers all their nudity.
I'm wondering now why I have been so afraid of having a great body. I think I've been afraid that certain people wouldn't take me seriously, or that certain guys would fool me into thinking they liked me when really what they want is to get into my pants. But fuck that. Right now, I don't give a shit if I am ever with someone again. I know that won't stay true, but it is true now, at least. I forgot how much a part of relationships is dealing with someone else's shit. Which is fine, but when you end up dealing with someone else's shit for months and get nothing back I think it sends you into a nice period of "fuck you everybody, I'm going to do what I want now."
So thanks.
I also used to have this idea that once I reached a certain place, a certain level of worth/worthiness, that at that point I would have control over other people hurting me, i.e. when I attained a certain level of beauty and charisma, that then I would be able to find someone who would never hurt me and never leave.
Yeah. Whatever. I've been past that point for a long time now, I just didn't realize it. And you know what? Sometimes you don't do anything wrong, and there's nothing wrong with you, and someone you love shits all over your life anyway. And you think over and over and over again and can't find any valid way that it was justified- i.e. it just doesn't make sense. And that, my lovelies, is when a very important thing happens:
You realize that you have no control over what happens to you- and never have. Control over life that is touched by six billion other people is an illusion. Something else has been driving your life the whole time you thought you were. And you're still here, you're still alive.
© beotch at
11:30 a.m.
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