Sunday, January 23, 2011

truthin' so hard.

What an absolutely, utterly unproductive weekend. Huddled under blankets, peeking out the window at the blinding white in sunlight. Perhaps I am too quiet.

I found myself on the edge of wallowing earlier. Though admitting this to friend forever seemed to curb it for the time being. (Oh man, do I miss you.) I never felt like I had to struggle to make friends. Growing up I worked a laissez-faire approach to shit, a charmingly obnoxious ability to be loud, and an adeptness for quick insults, bad puns, dirty jokes and general hilarity. High self-regard as well, obviously. Though, to be honest, most of the vanity at this point derives from the fact that I actually like myself. When I moved here, I found myself on an endless cycle of bad friend dates, and I suppose I never fully recovered. It's no lie to admit that once I'm tight with someone, I'm fiercely loyal, full of love and admiration. Heart on my sleeve and all need for drunken confessions. So it stings when I feel rejected. And I just feel so goddamned lonely a lot.

It's fairly atrocious at points being the grey cloud.

You are etched into me. Chills that cannot quit. And the confusion is killing me.

One night, we're all dancing. Forever and ever and ever.


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