Wednesday, 8 September 2010

I wish I was a cold-hearted, emotionless bitch

It would makes thing so much easier.

I hate that I like when he stays and we talk and he caresses my naked body and tells me I’m beautiful.
I hate that I like stroking his chest and when I feel his warm body against mine.

This ‘arrangement’ is great now but I can tell that when he finds someone else and it ends it’ll feel like we’re breaking up all over again.

It’s going to fucking hurt.

Thursday, 17 June 2010

You don't care, but..

Today I went out with bare arms.
In public.
With people.
No-one screamed
or vomited
or shielded their children's eyes.
Good outcome.

Thursday, 22 April 2010

Soulmates do not exist.

A human being's needs and desires are constantly changing, and we need and desire different things at different points throughout our lives. This means we need different people at different points too.
That guy you hardly spoke to but had rampant, passionate sex with when you were 18 may seem perfect at that moment in time, but later in life you may find yourself wanting something more emotional and secure.
I know what you're thinking - but what about those adorable couples that have been together for 60 years and only part ways in death? It's simple. They didn't have enough time to become sick of each other. Given long enough, everyone will grow bored of or resent the other person.
It may take 2 months or 20 years, but it will happen.

Monday, 15 March 2010

Dirty Mouths.

Is it cheating
if you brush your teeth
immediately
before a visit to the dentist?

Friday, 22 January 2010

I wish I loved my computer more.

Sometimes, I really wish I was a gamer.
You know those middle-aged guys that immerse themselves in World of Warcraft, live with their parents and never venture outside?
It seems easier.
Easier than trying to forge connections with shitty humans that you don't even like. Easier than dating. Easier than a two hour commute to a job you don't even like.
Dying alone doesn't seem too bad when you consider you won't have to talk to actual IRL people for the whole of your life.

Friday, 1 January 2010

Happy New Year I Guess!


This photo has nothing to do with anything.


It's 2010.
It feels weird seeing that number written everywhere - I had only just gotten used to it being 2009.
Then again, 'New Year' doesn't really mean much.. In the olden days you would just be overjoyed that you and your family had survived another disease-ridden 12 months.
I need to think of a resolution. That's what everyone does, right?
Make a promise, invariably 'lose weight' or 'eat less chocolate', and then fall off the bandwagon spectacularly after one and a half days.
Sounds like fun!
So what's yours?
And remember: We're All Just One Year Closer to Death!

Sunday, 20 December 2009

Dear Santa...

sketchysantas.com - a site I would heartily recommend!

Do you remember the time you found out the horrible truth? You know the one I'm referring to - the gut-wrenching moment when you found out Santa was a LIE. Did your little eyes well up with tears?
For me, there is no such memory. I cannot think of a time where I ever believed in him. Then again, I was always such a cynical little brat. I was never attached to a cuddly toy or blanket, and when I played with Barbies it seemed they were always acting out some sort of domestic dispute. In case you're wondering, I had a lovely upbringing - my pessimism is something that has always been there. It is mostly definitely nature, not nurture, for me.
Anyway, I digress. Why do we have to lie to children to make Christmas a more 'magical' time of year? What, receiving presents isn't good enough so we have to make it more sparkly and whimsical to please a small child? The stories could be told as entertaining bedtime stories, but we insist on making them fact. This I find utterly ridiculous and pointless.
I'm not sure why I feel so strongly about this - it's hardly a pressing issue. But I found myself getting very slightly angry when I found out my four-year-old brother had been fed this bullshit by his nursery teachers. I won't be the one to tell him (contrary to popular belief I am not a heartless bitch), but when he finds out the truth, I hope he'll enlighten the rest of his class.
Call me a scrooge or whatever (hopefully you will be more inventive than that), but I just do not see the point.

Merry Christmas everyone!