I feel sorry for ugly people. Actually, that’s not true, but it’s a thought I deliberately generate sometimes in order to feel like I’m a good and caring person. If you aren’t attractive, your life is worth less, is handicapped, is dispossessed. If you aren’t attractive, you skim the surface of things, hover at the edge of the dance floor, believe life will improve for you at some mythical future date (it won’t). If you aren’t attractive, you’ve always suspected there was a party you weren’t invited to, a job you didn’t get, a deep spiritual contentment you’ve never experienced — and let me be the one to tell you: you’re absolutely right. Your version of happy is my version of okay. You have only one life to live, and you must live it as an ugly person who doesn’t matter — it’s a wonder you have any self-esteem at all!
I am fucking livid right now. I just want to tear myself into pieces.
These residual feelings are fucking dumb and they need to die.
I hate the fact that you did this to me, like it is no big fucking deal.
These days I just try to keep to myself
Well aware I’ve lost touch with everyone else
I understand that I’m fading away
I’d rather play dead than play catch up
Because no one really cares all that much
I never get tired of Touché Amoré. I want more of them.
Someone needs to come dance with me.
You need music you can fall in love with. Any spare moment I have, I’ll be up in the music blogs looking for that new song that’ll be like crack for my earbuds. I don’t know about you guys but when I find a new song to obsess over, I’m like pretty set for the next three days. I don’t need a flirty text message, a delicious meal, or an amazing night out. I’m pretty much set with my New Favorite Song.
You need someone in your life who excites you, makes you nervous, and forces you to question what you think you already know. These usually come in the form of a crush or a relationship. A relationship is obviously ideal but a crush can tide you over like a nice appetizer. We spend so much of our time feeling jaded and set in our ideas, and that’s clearly not a fun way to exist. We pretend it is but deep down it feels a little miserable because we don’t want to know all the answers. We want someone who’s challenging, who we can’t figure out, and can tell us that we’re full of crap. We need someone to get us off the internet and remind us that real life is much more fun. And it’s okay to be unsure and nervous because that just means we’re alive again.
“Is the meaning of life to get excited about someone, genuinely feel interested in what he says, try to make him feel interested in what you say, make your bodies touch a lot, then ‘mess up’ somehow, have a long discussion where you ‘talk about a lot’ but don’t actually talk about anything although you tell yourselves you’ve reached some kind of ‘resolution,’ see him less at parties, write things to him and regret it, cycle through desire and hatred towards him but sort of feel unjustified for feeling anything towards him at all, try to get interested in other things or people, have long stretches of time of just sitting in your bed, looking out the window and wondering how it got to be so late, crave physical contact, crave someone validating your existence by showing interest in you, maybe get drunk by yourself a few nights and fall asleep in the bathtub, wake up, and go to work the next day?”