Fuck everyone.

I’ve been there for everyone

I’ve gone above and beyond


so I can go through everything alone?

So I can make terrible decisions without any help?


The Worst

Am I the only one who sometimes invests way too much into projects for school that ultimately aren’t worth shit, purely out of ego?

For my social psych class, we’re told to make a pamphlet on stalking and resources available on and off campus to victims of stalking.

By no means have I ever been excellent at graphic design, but I’m not the type of person who can just fold a piece of copy paper up and write vague statistics and phone numbers with god damn magic markers.

Let’s invest an entire night into this. This pamphlet will get a mere “oh, that’s nice” and account for 0.1% of my grade, but at least I’d only be vaguely embarrassed were it actually being distributed.

About that 

There is a man I rather like. I have never had him in any official capacity, nor will I ever.

The thing is:

I know someday he will meet this perfect girl in graduate school–this brilliant, beautiful bitch with her ivory fucking teeth, and their relationship will begin, unsuspectingly, but never end.

He will try to teach her to fish; she will have him learn place settings. 

One day I’ll receive notice through the wind that he’s marrying her.

They are registered at Z Gallery for some goddamned, brass-handled cutting board with their initial branded into it.

I won’t be sending my regards.

On masturbation (again)

I used to fantasize about Brad with other women, despite how much it genuinely and deeply hurt me for him to constantly do so or be after it.

It was rare that I could get off from the thought of him alone.

I’m ever fascinated by the connections between trauma and learned sexual preferences and behaviors. And repressed emotions and desires as well, just to create a perfect concoction of “what the fuck?”.

At any rate, now I just fantasize about other women.

Destroyed that cognitive dissonance.