all heterosexual products of the male specimen are exactly the same in many ways. they may differ in color of hair, eyes, skin, but in the longrun they are all one pulsing mass of disgusting fecal matter.

yes, that's what i said. fecal matter.

apparently he thought he could have one girlfriend while he was at school and one while he was home.

i am so drunk right now i can scarcely see straight. that's the beauty in wednesday nights, and my aunt kelly. and obviously nora and rakia.

on monday night i was very angry. and i stayed very angry, until i took five shots of bacardi and washed it down with an amber ale. this is why drinking is, in actuality, a blessing in disguise. (however, not a very good disguise, because it's not like it's not fun to do. but everyone always talks about alcoholism and such, which by the way i am not an alcoholic, don't worry. but i'm going to end the parenthesis now.) this is because before i was drunk, i was so angry at his male ignorance and blatant disregard for anything other than ridiculous and nonsensical. i wanted to put my fist through a window or shave my head or some other irrational thing that i would surely regret soon thereafter.

then i made an attempt (three attempts actually, proving the popular belief that the third time's the charm) at calming myself by lighting a cigarette, starting a game of snood, and drinking myself into a stupor of sorts.

the proof that drinking is actually a good thing comes now. previously, i had been seemingly incurably angry. after drinking, i came to my senses, kind of. after i finished my game of snood, i got into bed, turned on the television, curled into a ball and cried. i cried for a good thirty minutes. because while i was still very angry before, i had been unable to cry. i didn't know what to think or feel, because the anger was coursing through me so vehemently.

all i needed to do was cry.

and to cry, i had to drink. because he has since hardened my soul so completely that i am now unable to cry when he makes me need to. and when i can't cry, i can't do anything.

i cried and cried. because that's how i also feel.

sad.

because it happened again.

why does it keep happening?

but i'll never let myself get the way i was two years ago. honestly i don't think it's possible, and this is both a good thing and a bad thing. it's good because i like not wanting to kill myself. it's a bad thing because i no longer feel anything. well, that's not really true.

i feel angry.

and sad.

but at least i got to cry.

0 kids told me how it was so far
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