pubert

I don't know what it is that prompts me to write this tripe. I imagine its the same instict that courses through a jack-rabbit as it decides to dart accross the road a split second before an oncoming onslaught of tires conects against its belley, poping it like a boil. Its like sticking a toe into the bath tub. Your testing the waters before you enter, see what type of response you get. Although in my case the waters filled with sharks.

This canieving villianess diecietful woman holds a royal flush in the game of "let's put both fist up the boys ass...hold um" All i know is NO girl is still gonna carry feelings for me after what I did, and also not discounting the adverse effects of coming within proximaty of my dull listless personality, no woman would carry a torch for me. Now a grudge, (which is entirely justafiable... a concept that has never eluded my grasp,) that would make sense. Perhaps the cubans walking on me wasn't enough. Perhaps losing the best thing that ever happend to me wasn't enough. Perhaps droping out of what could've been the best semester ever so I could go to jail wasn't enough. But i'm the one who has to be alone all time.

SO why would you fill my heart with hope that maybe you want to see this mug again. Unless it was a really unfair and super petty attempt to prompt a direct respnose from me. Thats so selfish. And belive me I know a thing or two about being selfish.

I wish I had friends...all I have are accomplices.