The computer thinks it's 1980. That's a bit of a worry. It would be cool if I finished this entry and wound up going back in time because none of my crap existed then plus I would look kickarse in neon leggings.

I jest. I must.

Yesterday's entry = biproduct of so many guys being jerk and jerk related substances and one final straw.

Nothing that big since I was never really under but something I should mention because I'm never really over either.

What it comes down to is me feeling ultra insecure and hating being proven right, because I am always arguing the worst in people, the worst-case scenarios, and even then somehow I hold onto this tiny tiny fragment of hope that my reasoning is just twisted and delusional.

Hope gone. When the temperature gets hot enough it evaporates, when cold enough it just freezes over.

But never you mind. Carrying on, or attempts at it, are all I do, so it matters not whether I fail or flail. And what this will come down to in the short term is me creating a shirt with "Boys suck!" written on it.

What it will come down to long term is another story, but I suspect something in the vein of becoming a spiteful hairless-cat-throwing recluse.

So ready to play the role of the old chrone, because maiden isn't working for me and mother is obviously something I'll never quite achieve.

I'm too young to be this bitter. But I can't help it if I have nothing to wash this taste out of my mouth with.

Love to anyone who can find me nice heavily-sweetened juice.

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