I have always believed my dependence on others is in an acceptable level. Until recently, when I let my emotions dumb me down and have it skyrocket off the universe's imaginary measuring device. I convince myself, and everyone else who knows about my intense feelings for you, that this is normal. However, what's normal for me might be far-out crazy for you so, fuck you. I will get on with this entry and disregard your opinion.
I have to start moving—not closer, not even a baby step closer—farther from you, to the most nonthreatening distance I could tie myself to, or superglue my feet on, or whichever works best that I won't be able to annoy you and myself and the rest of the galaxies' population. Of course I can do that. Only if you don't
1. Come to me for anything,
2. Ignore me,
3. And burn my birth records to pose the improvised fact that I never existed and tell people that everything they knew about me was nothing but a collective psychological disorder.
To further incriminate myself, tripping over my own words has been a favorite albeit detested hobby of mine. I say I'll do this but I end up not doing it. I say I will remember the things I promised then forget it minutes after. I say I don't care then come up with big-ass posters to show that "I really don't care." I say I don't love you anymore when every second I hear you in my head, I fall deeper; shamelessly jack-hammering my way through the Earth's core.
I need to keep it together. I need to stop missing you all the time. I need to stop trying to compete with others for your attention. I need to stop being there for you 24/7. I need to stop hurting myself over things that you do with the people you like. I need to stop hating everybody that comes a hairline close to you. I need to stop longing for you. I need to stop typing regardless if I was or wasn't able to incorporate sens-
Or I could just stay here, let you hurt me even more by making me watch how you flirt with men, women, things, spirits, oxygen, etc. Or I could simply pull a chair, sit back while you do weird things for people that you never did to/for me. Or lose sleep over thoughts of you being with somebody else when it shouldn't even bother me because FRIENDS don't think too much over FRIENDS that barely think about them.
Friends. And nothing. OR nothing. And/or something. Or none at all.
Or.
Shit, I HAVE to move on.
(In case you don't get it, this entry is made up of 50% truth, 30% irony, 10% sarcasm and 10% colorful and shiny things.)
