Listen to this playlist: April 2011

s o m e t i m e s

sometimes i like to wonder about things.
would i be happier if i had...
 ...more money?
... a prettier face?
...smarter brain?
...hotter body?
...better personality?
...a more obedient dog?
...a degree from harvard?
...married a hot korean doctor?
...been born white not yellow?
...a different lineage?
...lived in hawaii?
...a boyfriend like edward cullens?
...no insomnia?
...no heartburn?
...no heart to burn?

this thinking exercise could lead to depressive thoughts. but for me, with my flawless logic, listing all the things that would make me a different, possibly better version...makes me realize i'm lucky.
i mean... wanting perfection is like saying I want no heart.  duh! winning!
[remember, this is flawless logic.]
logical equation below:
no heart=me no alive=me zombie=only want to eat human brain=me no like eat human brain

so, all in all... i'll just keep all my flaws, my appetite for steak and lobster and keep my heart too.

perfection is boring anyways. :)

Pandora and her box

Again it comes to this place.
I find myself unraveling in my shroud of doubt.
Will I always be in perpetual unhappiness?
Will I never relieve myself of my constant gloomy days?

I don't know. I always don't know.
I don't like this. Sometimes, I wish I was just dumb as fuck.
Let me feel the bliss of oblivion, of ignorance and stupidity.
I want to be blind.
What it would be like to pathologically only see the world with rose colored glasses.
I want to believe every lie, without a wink of a doubt.
I don't want to seek what is true, or real.
Take away my sentient and cognitive nature.
I care too much
I think too much
I worry too much
What rubbish.
What waste.

Why do I still care so much???
What does it mean that all evil spread from Pandoras box but for hope?
Hope exists, does it not?

your bf just hit on me, and you girl are in la la land

I know, yeah yeah yeah. I think too much. But, its just the way i'm wired. you know?

So, this is what I want to know.
I know many ladies, including myself that have been hit on by men that are in "long committed faithful relationships." or so it seems to their ladies.

Don't get me wrong. If you are in a unhappy relationship and your genuinely wondering if that person is for you, thats one thing. BUT i'm not talking about those kinds of situations where you are expressing concern to a good friend.

I'm talking about the sleezy beezy ones.

You know what really grinds my gears? [This is my rant like Peter Griffin from Family Guy.]
Their girls have no clue.
They think that they have some muthafuckin great boyfriends or something.
They truly believe that their kid will go fly to the moon if asked, and bring back some muthafuckin stars as souvenirs.

 Little do they know that they are saying things like:
"Sigh... I dunno. I love my partner, but sometimes I wonder whats out there. You make me wonder what it would be like to be with you..." 
"I like you"
"I wish my partner was more like you"
"I can't stand my partner"
"Can I kiss you?"
"You're so much better than my partner"
"Insert any words of infidelity here..."

or just any action that is ... opposite of what seems like the definition of faithful. General hitting on other girls that aren't your girlfriend. duh. must I explain anymore? You know what i'm talking about.

These chicks have no idea what their loving, committed, such trustworthy boyfriends are doing.

But how do we know that we are any different than "those" girls?
We like to believe that we are smarter, more clever, and would "just know" if shit like that was going on.
But even Ted Bundy had girlfriends, even while he was doing his psycho sociopath fucked up shit. They had no idea.
Craigslist killer had a fiancee that stood by him because he was "the greatest guy that wouldn't hurt a fly" until the evidence was so overwhelming that she could no longer deny it.

Ok sorry, sociopath killers are extreme but my point is... as much as I want to belive in the human race, i've seen too much from my end that tells me otherwise. I know I know... Call me a pessimist, but really, i'm just being a realist.


The sad thing is, these girls may never know and their friends will never tell them. 
Why?
Because, nobody wants to be the bearer of bad news.
Why? 
Because its easier to "shoot the messenger"than to believe somebody we love is a scummy douche bag lowlife.
Why? 
Because we would rather believe a comforting lie than know the heart wrenching muthafuckin truth son!

Whats the truth?
You was in love with a fake impostor of a good human being, that eats food like a human being, and looks like a human being but poops it out through his mouth. And you ate that shit up like it was some good muthafuckin medium rare steak and lobster.

and who wants to believe that?? would you?

g h o s t o f g l o o m y g o o s e

Today: I feel like a gloomy goose

I looked in the mirror. Eyes swollen beyond recognition. Nose filled with snot and eyes encrusted with dried salty water version of heartbreak. Yeah...tears. Whatever.
I'm not being gloomy.
No, today I feel pathetically inadequate. Defeated.
For the first time in t w o years I cried in self pity and self loathing. The stitches I worked so hard to fucking suture up and squish all the broken pieces inside seared right open. I cried out loud. The louder I cried, the harder I kept crying. That's what you call wallowing in self pity, and I was doing a pretty damn good job of it. If there was a prize for pity parties, I of course would have won the blue ribbon. You know you're doing a good job when you're so exhausted from crying that you lie like the dead and welcome your dog to lick your salty face and snot off. Since its easier than constantly wiping it it off yourself. Or maybe I could win the blue ribbon for laziness?? Either way! I win at fail!

 I felt my arms wrapping themselves around me. I think i'm hoping it will keep me from unraveling.
Oh stupid girl.

I looked in the mirror and I saw this version of me I hoped i'd never see again. Fragile, unsure and being everything I swore i wouldn't be.

Its ok though. Just as quickly as ghost of my version of 808 and heartbreak appeared, she disappeared. I like me. I'm not a great human being, but i'm a decent one. I'm not great enough to save the world, nor do I have super powers to wield at my fingertips...but I'm trying. And that's still worth something. With the little I have to offer, i'm still gonna try really hard. Just because its not something amazing, it doesn't mean its gotta be nothing. and I like that about me. I like that i'm trying, and that i'll always keep trying and nobody can take that from me.
So let me throw a few fuck yous and wish u good luck trying to smash me into oblivion.
Beat on the brat with a baseball bat.
I dare you!