When will the stupidity end. When I'm 30? When I'm wrinkly? For crying out loud, I don't want to be clingy anymore. Sometimes I consider myself an asswipe already. When these fathermuckers start forgetting you, you feel as if you have to do something to make yourself the center of their universe.
But I've never liked the attention. The occasional limelight's fine, but smothering ?! Eew. Get a life.
I've been tempted for the past 2 weeks to get a book I found pretty interesting, Why Men Love Bitches. The only time I become one is when I don't get what I want, traffic, humid weather, bad manners. I can't be one for the longest time. My male friends, including Marius has taught me the one thing that can make a man go down on his knees: don't care.
Going back to the book, the title is worth slapping in my face for not being a bitch enough. And yet I am tempted to buy it, still.
When I find the need to do so.
Regarding the bookworm bull, I have my sumpong again. From milk cartons to ketchup labels and receipts, I couldn't stop reading again. In search of the perfect, satiating book once again.
Desperately seeking a way out.
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