Since we all know how I feel about talking about my feelings, here is a song lyric that I have picked out, to do the talking for me:
You tell me that you’re busy.
Your loving makes me crazy.*
I know that you hear me,
Start acting like you want me.
*Given my current opinion on “love” (ie: that it is not real, but rather is a series of falsehoods, based on some stupid metanarrative, designed to make us feel bad about ourselves) I would prefer for “loving” in that line to be substituted with “pretty sweet make-out ability” and “crazy” with “want to make out with you all the time, too bad you never answer your phone and are probably feeding me lies. Oh, well.”
In sum: what is the point of boys? I don’t even know. I really just want to be given a reason to be less disillusioned.
What is the point of boys? HA. Story of my effing life…. I’ll let you know when I know. In the meantime, you are awesome. Do not feel bad.
Boys are ridiculous and awful. Always.
There might one day be a “good one.” If you want there to be one. But it will only happen when you don’t really want there to be one, and you don’t really care at all about much of anything except yourself. Which is good, because, as has been stated, you are awesome.
I like how Sherry, who has one of the best boys I know, is telling you that boys are ridiculous and awful.
^ I was thinking something similar. Then again, I can wear lip gloss and no one complains.
I am just looking forward to my favourite holiday tradition, which is spending December 23rd through to January 2nd in a state of mild but constant inebriation, which should hopefully make all of my problems go away.