Woke up yesterday feeling so shitty. I mean you'd think that all those hilarious words of wisdom and encouragement coming from the big fish triumvirate would trickle down to us small fish and give us some form of confidence boost. Well, nozzir, it didn't. Epic fail! It actually made me and Mela feel worse afterwards - ergo the shitty day I had yesterday that only became shittier with my shitty ass phone that kept shitting up.
SHIT WORD COUNT: 5. Shit. Make that 6.
Well, I was really just jotting down everything they were saying so I could record it for posterity. It was fucking hilarious at the moment. But as I was listening intently, getting some pointers here and there (never to use because that's simply not me... haha), I realized, "Shit, is dating really supposed to be that way? Should you really paint a stronger and macroscopic picture of yourself, play the game, and do some awry dance of cat and mouse every single time?" The draw. The tableau. The drama. The dagger. It's a dog-eat-dog world out there, saturated with rituals, mind games and expectations broken, and other times met. Broken? Shit... Met? Great... which at some point turns to shit. Shit. Cynical.
Maybe dating is overrated. Or maybe a person can't really move forward when he or she is carrying too much baggage because it prevents the revelation of their true inner selves. Hope can't spring eternal because the drainage is blocked and the spring is corrupted. The thought of eternal becomes eternity - an eternity of eternal damnation. Shit.
WHAT I ATE TODAY:
1 Bottle of Minute Maid
4 servings of some agli olio pasta
3 slices of pizza
6 shots of The Bar
2 swigs of San Mig LIght
SIGHTS AND SOUNDS:
At Marco's Birthday Thing (Happy Birthday Monkey Dawg)
- 2000 and Thin