fuckifino.
Life holds your phone calls for naptime, and emotional baggage for finals week. Confusion is not something i want to be feeling while trying to memorize the characteristics of the major terrestrial biomes.
and here's the obligatory lovelife rant that brought me the energy to actually fucking Blog. The girl I'm talking to, my official unofficial, asked if i would marry her eventually (say in the next year or two). I'm still a good four or five years away from my doctorate, and she wants me to think about marriage? I give her my answer, which upsets her, then she comes up with a "compromise." She could just have my kid and we wouldn't have to get married. Doesn't fuck up my plans at all, but is incredibly funny. Great Compromise. At least i found out about this before i slept with her. Gotta keep in mind to keep my needles and condoms as far away from each other as possible.
The Other, who isn't actually an other. she's the one who wouldn't take me, but was sure to grasp my heart securely before walking away as she forgot to relinquish her grip. She's back with her ex. I find it fucking odd that every time she pops into mind I can't help smiling, and think "fucking bitch" at the exact same fucking time.
All this holds such an important sway over my mood, but i know that it also means absolutely nothing. These "trials" are entirely trivial, and within 3 years time will be nothing but a bitter memory. Despite knowing this, i can't help being dragged into it. It seems that we thrive off of conflict. I understand that as well, There's nothing like the adrenaline rush that comes from a purely emotional stimulus.
None of this matters. I don't matter. It is only what I do that matters. I am insignificant in the face of the fucked-up half-assed, entirely self-righteous, uncertain legacy that i might be trying to leave behind. Fuck. <a href="http://s5.photobucket.com/albums/y193/blackchariot/?action=view¤t=fc4.gif" target="_blank"><img src="http://i5.photobucket.com/albums/y193/blackchariot/fc4.gif" border="0" alt="Photobucket"></a>
Life holds your phone calls for naptime, and emotional baggage for finals week. Confusion is not something i want to be feeling while trying to memorize the characteristics of the major terrestrial biomes.
and here's the obligatory lovelife rant that brought me the energy to actually fucking Blog. The girl I'm talking to, my official unofficial, asked if i would marry her eventually (say in the next year or two). I'm still a good four or five years away from my doctorate, and she wants me to think about marriage? I give her my answer, which upsets her, then she comes up with a "compromise." She could just have my kid and we wouldn't have to get married. Doesn't fuck up my plans at all, but is incredibly funny. Great Compromise. At least i found out about this before i slept with her. Gotta keep in mind to keep my needles and condoms as far away from each other as possible.
The Other, who isn't actually an other. she's the one who wouldn't take me, but was sure to grasp my heart securely before walking away as she forgot to relinquish her grip. She's back with her ex. I find it fucking odd that every time she pops into mind I can't help smiling, and think "fucking bitch" at the exact same fucking time.
All this holds such an important sway over my mood, but i know that it also means absolutely nothing. These "trials" are entirely trivial, and within 3 years time will be nothing but a bitter memory. Despite knowing this, i can't help being dragged into it. It seems that we thrive off of conflict. I understand that as well, There's nothing like the adrenaline rush that comes from a purely emotional stimulus.
None of this matters. I don't matter. It is only what I do that matters. I am insignificant in the face of the fucked-up half-assed, entirely self-righteous, uncertain legacy that i might be trying to leave behind. Fuck. <a href="http://s5.photobucket.com/albums/y193/blackchariot/?action=view¤t=fc4.gif" target="_blank"><img src="http://i5.photobucket.com/albums/y193/blackchariot/fc4.gif" border="0" alt="Photobucket"></a>