Welcome once again to this pathetic freakin' corner of my everyday world.
On the headlines tonight:
Small, petty woman for sale. She claims that she can burn your balls and scratch your eyes out at the slightest provacation, but what you actually get is closer to a high, droning whine, the insistent pitch of a griping hound.
This, on a happy day.
Several small things.
Small thing number one: You're cruelest to the people you love.
Number two: Temper. It flares. It burns. It scars.
Three: I don't want you to understand.
Nothing happened, dear. There is no why. I love you. Oh happy day.
Thank you for putting up with such a small, petty little personality.
This is not an entry. You are hallucinating after more than a month of seeing the same words ove and over again, like a mantra. The sheer monotony is creating the illusion of something new.
These are not my words, they are the products of your imagination.
posted by Jael @ 1:11 AM
