So, seeing as it's 2:30 AM, this is probably going to be another semi-short post. Or not. We'll see. We're just going to let the words flow.
Today was... not productive or eventful. I am almost ashamed of myself. As I sit here on on my aunt's couch wrapped up in covers, planning on going to sleep immediately after writing this post, I am wearing the same pajamas I fell asleep in last night...
We finished season two of Supernatural, and I only have two words: HOLY SHIT. We are now two episodes into season three.
Yeah. Making my FTFK video was about the only productive thing I did all day. I also ate some delicious grilled cheese.
Oh. But I did see Posh Spice's band's new MySpace layout and promos... Apparently he posted it on Facebook and a lot of our mutual friends "liked" it, so it showed up on my news feed, much to my displeasure. But, I figured a small peek wouldn't hurt.
He looked ridiculous. Don't get me wrong, the quality of the photographs and layout was superb, but he just looked ridiculous. And all I could do was laugh. And then I showed my Aunt Shana and she laughed too. And commentated on how homosexual he looked. She is most definitely not the first person to have had that theory. Or the second, or the third...
Anyway. Point is. It kind of stirred things up for me again. All of the resentment and the wishing I could have done things differently... I asked my aunt, "Hey, why did I date such a douche?" She asked me, "How old were you?" "I had just turned sixteen." "That's why," she said. And she's right, to an extent. There were other underlying issues also. I'm a pretty self-destructive person, and he used me and psychologically fucked me over from the very beginning, from the very first time we met. So naturally, I was hooked. I became his best friend, I fell head over heels in love with him, refused to let myself even look at another guy that way, completely dedicated myself to him, for almost five months before we dated. And during those five months, I cannot even begin to tell you the magnitude with which he screwed me over. And that last final time, the worst time, when not even a day after telling me, "I don't want to be in a relationship with you or push anything romantic on you because I don't want to hurt you," he ended up making out with me on my couch while we were watching the Smurfs (this wasn't the first time that this sort of thing had happened, it was just that we had been through so much of it already and he promised he wouldn't do it to me anymore). Then acted like nothing had happened the rest of the night. When I asked him about it, he told me it was a slip of self control, basically. And then the next day, I found out he liked this girl from our school who I didn't even know he knew (and I was his "best friend").
And that was just BEFORE we dated. And it doesn't even scratch the surface. I could write a freaking book. Like really. You don't even KNOW.
But wow. I didn't mean for that paragraph to be so long. It's just... I don't really know. I guess what bothers me the most about Posh Spice is that he puts himself off as this wonderful, loving, caring person. And then does things that totally go against it. He also has a terrible habit of avoiding all of his problems, his "demons" so to speak.
I guess it may have to do with the fact that I've been watching Supernatural for three (four?) days straight, but I like to think that rather than running from my demons, like Posh Spice does, I should be kicking their asses and sending them straight back to where they came from, just like Sam and Dean do on Supernatural... however I don't think I'm quite there yet. I'm still a step ahead of Posh Spice though. At least I acknowledge my demons. I embrace them, even, at times. I work with them. I come by it honestly. So I can go to sleep at night knowing, that no matter what, no one can ever call me a fake. I know what I am, I know where I've been, and I'm capable of. I just don't know where I'm going. But I'll figure it out.
Hahaha. I bet most of you reading this blog are like, "what?"
But that's okay.
Well there's your angst, guys! Haha. And there's plenty more where that came from!
No text from Tastycake either. I'm pretty sure he probably thought I was some psycho-crazy-wacked-out stalker. But that's okay. I tried. I'm actually kind of sorry for him. I put quite the burden on his shoulders- making him carry the torch of hope for all the guys of the world and all. And hey, maybe he just hasn't gotten around to it. We'll see.
I'm single. I'm seventeen. I'm mildly adorable, even if I am awkward and shy and socially incapable. I make up for that in quirkiness and a charming outlook on life. Life is perfect right now. And I plan on making the most of it. Starting with this summer.
The demon ass-kicking will have to wait. For now, I am going to enjoy myself as I am. Late night blog postings and all.
Days gone without contacting Posh Spice: Who cares? He's a piece of shit.
Weight: Dear god.
Pre-life crisis related tantrums had this summer: 2
Twitter followers: 920