off of work. it's my 6th day. i am burnt out and don't even know why i'm attempting to update my journal, since i feel like anything that's gonna spit out of my head at this moment is going to be utter nonsense.
i got to have sushi for valentines with a wonderful friend- her birthday is on valentines. it was my first time not being in a relationship and not doing the couple thing, which for whatever reason, always works out so much less exciting and so much more stressful than it would seem. it's nice. whatever, i feel like i'm taking care of myself. .... and i also suddenly realized, that i am using this time to process. aakk! stop.
bruises and bitemarks are fun.
pushing on old bruises is fun to do.
finding little presents that have been strategically placed in your pocket or other random places and you have no idea it's there until you go to search for an old piece of gum at the bottom of your pocket and the one who might have placed it there is already gone is always enjoyable too.
two days ago one of those guys who offers to give you free packs of cigarettes if you just show him your i.d. gave me some cigarettes. all i had to give in exchange was the opportunity to competely steal my whole identity. call me paranoid (most people do) but it's a little fucking scary when someone offers free cigarettes (an addict can hardly refuse any free drug, whatever it may be) and the next thing you know your whole id is being digitally scanned and you're signing some random form.... for 2 packs of smokes. whatever. fuckit. gullible me.
a bit of random info related, yet unrelated: i was quoted as the "gullible cynic" that evening. an oxymoron, but something that just seems to go hand in hand for me. like i want to believe everything, especially that craziest most unbelievable shit of all, but at the same time; not trust much of anything at all.
i got to have sushi for valentines with a wonderful friend- her birthday is on valentines. it was my first time not being in a relationship and not doing the couple thing, which for whatever reason, always works out so much less exciting and so much more stressful than it would seem. it's nice. whatever, i feel like i'm taking care of myself. .... and i also suddenly realized, that i am using this time to process. aakk! stop.
bruises and bitemarks are fun.
pushing on old bruises is fun to do.
finding little presents that have been strategically placed in your pocket or other random places and you have no idea it's there until you go to search for an old piece of gum at the bottom of your pocket and the one who might have placed it there is already gone is always enjoyable too.
two days ago one of those guys who offers to give you free packs of cigarettes if you just show him your i.d. gave me some cigarettes. all i had to give in exchange was the opportunity to competely steal my whole identity. call me paranoid (most people do) but it's a little fucking scary when someone offers free cigarettes (an addict can hardly refuse any free drug, whatever it may be) and the next thing you know your whole id is being digitally scanned and you're signing some random form.... for 2 packs of smokes. whatever. fuckit. gullible me.
a bit of random info related, yet unrelated: i was quoted as the "gullible cynic" that evening. an oxymoron, but something that just seems to go hand in hand for me. like i want to believe everything, especially that craziest most unbelievable shit of all, but at the same time; not trust much of anything at all.
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do you have pink sparkly jelly dildos?
i've been looking for one forever.
My identity is worth shit, so if anyone wants it ... I'd be happy to trade it fora carton of smokes! (I do think it's worth more than just two packs, but I'm deluded like that.)