“See, I’m the worst breed of human. Let me explain. Some people are dead inside. They go through life knowing this, and they manage fine enough, because, well, they’re dead inside. They aren’t bitter because they don’t care enough to change. They just try to get by with the things they can control. Others live in the fucking clouds, watch romantic comedies, and dream about everything being perfect one day. These people are always fine because they have an everlasting well of hope inside them, and no matter what happens they’ll just romanticize their existence.
But when it comes to me…I’m someone who’s mostly dead inside but still has a little hope for something extraordinary, which, as I said, is the worst breed of human, because it means that I know everything is bullshit, but that I secretly hope for the day when it might not be. The tension makes me wish I were just completely dead inside. It would makes things much easier for me.”
||Isn’t It Pretty To Think So?, Nick Miller
Stella sat in her kitchen thinking about what tomorrow would hold.
She would do it, she would go see John.
She never felt bad about showing up uninvited just to have tea with him. Why would one feel uninvited when every time they showed up they were welcomed with hugs and laughter?
Certain things just can’t be explained.
There is not enough time in my day to get everything that I want to do, or need to do, accomplished.
This is not going to work.
I might not be nice but at least I’m honest.
If you get offended when I post MY opinion on MY blog or MY social networking site that is NOT my problem. It’s yours.
I don’t bitch, whine and complain when you post your opinion, I just silently judge you and laugh at how stupid you are. You have the right to be wrong and I have the right to acknowledge how fucking misguided and sheepish you are.
Sorry not sorry.
Have a nice day.
Edward: We need to know more about these magic underwear.
Me: Well, they must be pretty impressive. They aren’t magical underwear, they are magic underwear. They are the entire entity of magic.
Edward: Some how these people have found a magic fiber to trap and weave the magic together forming religious long johns.
Me: It’s like whatever tampons are made out of but magic.
It’s so awesome when you met people who have lives that are just as fucked up as yours.
They get it.
You don’t have to over exert yourself trying to explain your situation to them in a way that they’ll understand.
They just fucking get it.
They don’t look at you like you’re bat shit crazy, either. They’ll just say “Oh shit, I totally know where you’re coming from.”
I was right all along, I am not the only fucking one stuck in an awful shit storm.