Because It's Better To Be Irrational With Me Than Rational With Someone Else ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- \"… they'll fan out in all directions, calling my name and making noise and generally screaming HEY BEARS, COME AND EAT US. And then the bears will come and eat them.\"* So hey, I wish Stan I had not made out. Those multiple times. I wish our feelings were still boiling inside of us instead of shared. It would've been better this way. Now, I have become paranoid. We act the same way as we acted before, not much has changed. But with each day, with each minute he hasn't hugged me or kissed me, I must wonder: has he lost interest?! No, no he hasn't. But how else would I explain this? With each minute, I worry. I worry. I want him so bad. I completely forget that at work we should actually… work… for a change. He is rather manipulative (although he claims I beat him at this more often than not). Is this his way of keeping me on a short leash? Making me wonder, suffer, but then reward me with a little tid bits? He's good. It is working. But I rather be on the other side, I AM THE MANIPULATOR, YOU ARE THE MANIPULATEE. It is just the way it is. "And of course they knew I was right. Being right is my job. The thing is, some managers hire people they're excited to work with. I prefer to hire people I'm excited to dominate."* Out of spite for life and for everything else, I went trail walking. I went off the trail and started climbing a cliff. There was a beautiful lonely flower growing from between the cracks of a rock covered in moss. I climbed (with a great fear of heights and no previous skill in rock climbing) and climbed and I missed a spot. I started falling and sliding down. In the seconds that took me to slide and tumble down three times my height, I felt at peace. It was the most unusual. I felt in full control as I was falling. I felt satisfied with life. If I died there and then, I would not have minded. I wished that I fell into the lake, but I eventually stopped sliding. I started climbing back again - the flower needed to have its picture taken. I climbed back, this time successfully. Took a picture, and climbed back down. The picture came out blurry. Son of a bitch!
12:53 a.m. - May 26, 2010 ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- |
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