backyard crowing



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easier to die when you have lived

I have to stop blaming myself.

I have to realize that just because a guy doesn't like me doesn't mean I've done something wrong. Not everybody has to like me, and anyone who thinks everyone should like them in a romantic way is just straight up, batshit crazy.

Then again, I am in a facebook group called...

I AM BATSHIT INSANE!

What I do is who I am no matter what I say, right? That's true if the phrase "actions speak louder than words" is to be believed.

Anyway, back to my topic.

People will like me and not like me, and that's okay. Normal, in fact. I can't focus on those who don't matter anymore.

I've been in love twice. The others were just guys I dated

It's okay to have my history. My past love life is a strange one...but that's okay.

That's. O. Kay.

I wonder if my two loves ever guessed just how strongly I felt about them. They have made me jaded. Or one did, anyway.

"It's easier to die when you have lived, than when you haven't lived."

-Mr. Paskowitz, dad of the surfer family in the documentary Surfwise

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In Chipotle one day in late June, not sure of the exact day:

I'm in lurve with a new boy now. Il s'appelle Victor, et il est un journaliste, like for-real, for-real. My psychologist has told me I have noticed red flags. I am too in like to need them.

I am drunk enough to admit this.

Turmoil, tumult, that is what my crazy life is full of. But thank God. I'd rather feel than just sit here, existing. I need my drama for survival. Need my drug.

Men are a drug. Where did Matt go? Why do I care? The manager here keeps a-monitoring here at...PERDITA'S, and here I am again,

L-O-S-T,

as my best friend would say. Well at least I don't want so much to dissappear anymore. The want comes and goes, but is no longer constant.

YAAAAAAY, SUICIDE!

I AM SO TYPICAL!!!!!!

Me: "I tell people about your margaritas. They're so good--"
Manager: "Kiiiiiinda strooooong..."

O-kay! Hello, Mr. I-don't-let-you-finish-your-sentences.

Teq, teq, TEQ! Oh, how I heart thee!

Lemme count those ways...
those delicious, thought-changing, clit-tingling ways!

Oh, how it consoles me, and makes me cry!

And makes me want to cry, die, DIE!

Is it allowed to do that?

- wednesday, June 25, 2008
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