Tuesday, June 24, 2008

Historically, I tend to hate you.

“In the not so distant futures” aside, going crazy isn’t as fun as you might think. I cried a lot about my grandma recently. Don’t worry I managed to milk a hug out of one half of a set of twins that I’m crushing on. Even in despair I got my eye on the prize. Although I mustn’t have looked very cool, eyes red and puffy while trying to bat my eyelashes in a meager attempt to have her notice their lusciousness.

Got madder then I can ever remember, and it did something to me. An unassociated gush of emotion that I had sequestered came out at the most inopportune of times. Crowded rooms and flashing lights didn’t help; enemies lurking in every corner trying to have couched conversations about irrelevant things didn’t either.

Fuck you doctors who suck at your jobs. Fuck you shitty cousins and know it all aunts who descend upon my house with stuff to fill the freezer.

Spinach pie aint gonna help no one right now...



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