So I got an email a few days ago from "that" site. It said that I haven't used it for about four months and they were wondering if I forgot my password. I know, I know. I am to blame for not trying and blah blah. That's not the point right now. It's that I wonder if I can ever get over myself long enough to actually try to find someone, and if by some divine miracle I do, I just wish I don't get turned off because he starts every second sentence with the word basically or thinks that being a vegetarian will slow down global warming.
Yes, I have issues. Lots of them. Duh.
Which, by the way, is another fear. That when I actually let someone in, he'll find out how neurotic and fucked up I am and run as fast a gay person used to run in biblical times when he was being chased by a congregation of catholics waiting to stone him.
In fact, my life right now is like a Merchant-Ivory film. Everybody is in their own self-imposed misery and the fat guy never gets laid.
I'm really going to print out a big sign which says "I don't work right now. Ask me why and I'll kill you and get an alibi". People need to stop thinking their Oprah. Some people just don't get it. I mean, if looking through a person while they are almost choking to death on a piece of sushi doesn't get the message through, I don't know what will.
Remember when I was in a funk and had nothing to say? The voices in my head have still not returned. I kind of miss a few of them. Specially Victor. He always made me feel that there is something on my shirt which is making me look funny which in turn is causing everybody to point and laugh at me.
Again, Issues. Clusterfucked brain. Crazy.
Run, baby, run.
Does everything have to have a point?career , clueless , crazy , Random Stuff , shallow musings . You can follow any responses to this entry through the RSS 2.0 feed. You can leave a response, or trackback from your own site.
8:44 PM | Author: Rambunctious WhipperSnapper