So I got home drunk and accidentally hit the garbage disposal switch instead of the light.
HOLY FUCKING SHIT. AURAL RECEPTORS UNDER ATTACK.
That was the most frightening experience I've had in, oh, the last year. I guess there's something to be said for that if that's the worst experience I've had in a long time.
Jodie told me about a girl who was hot for my roommate, so I h00x0r3d him up tonight. Let us hope that she is a sweet, decent girl, and not a complete tard. If anything, she was cute, so that's a plus.
I'm currently embroiled in a very volatile state of affairs. My emotions dictate one thing while common sense dictates that I should RUN THE HELL AWAY AND NEVER LOOK BACK. But hey, I'm a tard, like most sappy, hopeful individuals, and I cannot do such a thing.
It's really hard on me. I would love to give every aspect of myself to this girl in order to make her happy. I try to. Ideally, she would feel for me what I feel for her. That, gentle reader, is ridiculous sentiment. Let the burning commence. I'm going to be the loser in this deal - this I fully acknowledge, but do not embrace. This situation has been encountered twice in my lifetime, and it's some of the most difficult strain I can endure: pure, raw, uninhibited emotion is generally frowned upon, and it's all I can currently experience, want to experience, or let myself experience.
High tide is here, and I'm going to drown. If I'm going to drown, though, it's going to be knowing (or falsely believing) that this girl realizes that I'm not a fraud - that I do care about her immensely, that her company pleases me beyond words can describe, and that there is someone out there who will pay attention to her for no other reason than that I find her gorgeous both as a person and in corpus.
Dammit, sometimes I really loathe being drunk. It's sodium pentathol with more interesting times and no intravenous needles.
Hope is naught but anathema.
HOLY FUCKING SHIT. AURAL RECEPTORS UNDER ATTACK.
That was the most frightening experience I've had in, oh, the last year. I guess there's something to be said for that if that's the worst experience I've had in a long time.
Jodie told me about a girl who was hot for my roommate, so I h00x0r3d him up tonight. Let us hope that she is a sweet, decent girl, and not a complete tard. If anything, she was cute, so that's a plus.
I'm currently embroiled in a very volatile state of affairs. My emotions dictate one thing while common sense dictates that I should RUN THE HELL AWAY AND NEVER LOOK BACK. But hey, I'm a tard, like most sappy, hopeful individuals, and I cannot do such a thing.
It's really hard on me. I would love to give every aspect of myself to this girl in order to make her happy. I try to. Ideally, she would feel for me what I feel for her. That, gentle reader, is ridiculous sentiment. Let the burning commence. I'm going to be the loser in this deal - this I fully acknowledge, but do not embrace. This situation has been encountered twice in my lifetime, and it's some of the most difficult strain I can endure: pure, raw, uninhibited emotion is generally frowned upon, and it's all I can currently experience, want to experience, or let myself experience.
High tide is here, and I'm going to drown. If I'm going to drown, though, it's going to be knowing (or falsely believing) that this girl realizes that I'm not a fraud - that I do care about her immensely, that her company pleases me beyond words can describe, and that there is someone out there who will pay attention to her for no other reason than that I find her gorgeous both as a person and in corpus.
Dammit, sometimes I really loathe being drunk. It's sodium pentathol with more interesting times and no intravenous needles.
Hope is naught but anathema.
porcelainheart:
i'll either be sleeping or drinking. so far, it's been sleeping that has taken over.
menotyou:
It wasn't self imposed. I watched it because I couldn't sleep. I had dick else to do.