17 December, 2006, 923 am
Filed under: Uncategorized

I hate that I’m trying to avoid writing because I know I’m going to make someone blush.  Namely, one person who I don’t care if he reads this blog; as long as he’s alive, I’m good.  What I’m trying to say is that I’ve been happy lately, and I feel like writing about it will take any sort of secerecy or magic out of it.  I’d also hate to embarrass someone with words.  My words.

I hate how some girls see men as objects.  They’re not even people; they’re like gifts, or toys, and relationships are games, and the games each have different levels, and the boys, you can break and bend in all sorts of directions, and it doesn’t matter as long as they’re hot and not cheating.  That sort of mindset gives a bad name to all girls, especially in my opinion, where this “toy” they’re talking about turns out to be someone I care for, and I don’t feel like joking about how little I care for him, when, in fact, he means far more to me than these stupid gossipmongers…even more than Jenny Lewis or Conor Oberst (GASPITY GASP GASP GASP).

Damn, I’m tired.

Listen to the Intimates.  Watch Little Miss Sunshine and Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind.  J’ai trop sommeil.


1 Comment so far
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:) i’m glad you’re really happy.

Comment by divya

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