Tuesday, January 1, 2013

That moment of bliss right before you realize your fake personality is ONE HUNDRED times worse than your real one. 

Sooooo Merry Christmas! Happy New Year! Texty text text tappity tap screen swipy whooxoxoxo can you tell yet that this text is forced, and the face of the sender is completely devoid of emotion/Christmas cheer/ tears of friggin love and hope?

I feel an appropriate sense of joy and happiness right now, moderately enthused..... Probably going to take a nap. All of this holiday fakery has rumbled my slumber bone. 

I hope I may write here, without causing offense, a paragraph about a thought I had two weeks ago, in lieu of some countdown/recap situation about last year. It all started with my phone, in my hand, loneliness personified, a bottomless pit of shame and regret forthcoming, inputting; send. It seemed to cease not, the banter and the late night phone calls, .....The coffee date that was rescheduled and cancelled, proposed and accepted over the span of one million texts. That is an actual figure folks. 

And then, I suppose something dramatic happens here or whatever, immediately before I SLEPT WITH HIM. WILLINGLY! And then it became clear....... So many truths that have fogged over again since then. The main truth, I think, was that I am actually not that interesting, and clearly could not even  friend zone a puppy dog if I had a penis.  Soooooooooooo yea. This was hard for me to take. ........... So ooooooooooooo I decided to drop. 

The Dom Bomb. Of friendship.  

It's hard for me to go back to that day, but to my best recollection, I was just walking down Robson when I had the thought. It came unexpectedly, cluttered in with the anxious thoughts I was having about coming back to my apartment from Jacobs, clutching a coffee, hair in a swarm, piled on my head like greasy nylon.  It was awful, walking along all midday Mary shame walker amidst stylishly dressed asian girls with puppies. The thought billowed up, soundlessly encompassing my mind, like a cloud of soft, silty, insanity. It was Time, 12345766899    End text. The text to end it all.

"have you ever heard me fart or poo" 

I sit here, on my little wooden stool sobbing, trying to type the details, but it is useless to try and explain.