Philotic Web

Yesterday I had some specific suicidal ideation for the first time in many months.

Confession: I'm going to look at apartments with my friend on sunday, and I have no intention of moving in there, at all.

It's not the way I planned it.

The more I see of my ex-boyfriend the more disgusted I am with myself for ever giving my heart to him, and the more afraid I am that since I keep falling in love with idiots, every man in my life will be like him. Maybe I just can't do better.

I saw a very impressive collection of work by faberge. But I was more excited by the zoo.

Confession: On really bad days at work, I slip people coupons while i'm ringing them up, because making other people happy truly does make me feel better.

The more I see of my ex-boyfriend the more disgusted I am with myself for ever giving my heart to him, and the more afraid I am that since I keep falling in love with idiots, every man in my life will be like him. Maybe I just can't do better.

Whoever you are, you can.

Period.

The more I see of my ex-boyfriend the more disgusted I am with myself for ever giving my heart to him, and the more afraid I am that since I keep falling in love with idiots, every man in my life will be like him. Maybe I just can't do better.

Whoever you are, you can.

Period.

I concur. Absolutely.

I do NOT want to go home. This has been the best year of my life.

Confession: When I get anxious about something, it appears as though I suffer from a symptom of Tourette's Syndrome.

I think things out in my head and the only thing that is heard outloud is the f*** or s*** I say in response to myself when I realize I've made a mistake. There's also the a****** that slips when I'm thinking about a particular person at times, but that's less common.

Confession: Crying on the phone with Nicole the other day - helping her deal with her breakup....as stupid and sadistic as it may sound, made me feel better about myself.

Confession: I desperately want her back. I just refuse to until...something.

Confession: I desperately want someone new. I want to love.

Confession: I feel completely alone, and I have a feeling that is going to be the rest of my summer.

confession: i bought the diet coke "plus" as opposed the the regular diet coke, simply because i liked the teal color of the bottle cap.

Confession: Even though no one I work with takes the safety commitee seriously, I still love that I'm on it.

Give me a sign.

Confession: I do this in full knowledge that it's a really really bad idea.

I had a PWEB dream last night.

Confession: I think I may have been deluding myself into a state of pseudo-detatchment; my inability to attain any semblance of true mindfulness and to maintain my awareness seem to have given rise to a quasi-waking-dream-like state in which I feel serene and detatched, gaining insights into my conciousness through the various methods of meditation and self-styled yoga, and the religious/philosophical texts dominating my reading material as of late, but this feeling may or may not be genuine, and my fear is that in delusion, in this feeling, I have made myself think that I'm making progressive steps, when in fact I may only be manufacturing these results, keeping me from actual progress.

I had a PWEB dream last night.

What was it?

Was it a PG dream?

It was a big get-together that turned out to be kind of like a family reunion, like a picnic in the middle of a field. I think it was someone's birthday and they wanted to play dodgeball. Someone hit me in the face with a dodgeball and then I woke up. Pretty much everyone was there, though.

Now the real question is, did we look like our pictures or our avatars?

For some people that wouldn't really matter.

It's 4pm. I'm still in my pyjamas. I don't foresee that changing any time soon.

Nor do I care.

I'm all grow'd up now, and i still make the occasional blanket fort, just for fun.

i'm tipsy and so am remembering things i wouldn't otherwise.

confession: one of the 287382648327598490389543 things i miss about being with henry is calling him "tiger." it's SUCH a good pet name, and no one else is quite worthy of it. i miss saying it. quelle dommage.


confession part deux (tipsy or sober): i <3 Georgia Nicolson enough to 1. use the emo heart. biatch. 2. wish i were quite a bit more like her. 3. integrate her slang into my inner thought processes.

Confession: I don't really care about music. I could take it or leave it.
I hate it when people force me to listen to a song they like.

confession: i like carrie underwood's "before he cheats." enough to buy it off itunes. which i have done.

i'm so ashamed.

It sincerely brightened my day to see Papa post, even if it was about something of which I know nothing.

I take the fact that my doctor was on vacation when I called as an omen that I shouldn't be calling him.

Confession: when I have to make a phone-call, it doesn't matter who it's to, it could be to a friend I've known for years, it will often take me 10 minutes or so of staring at the phone before I actually force myself to dial... and then I'm saying under my breath "don't pick up, don't pick up".

I hate phones.

I can be made to feel stupid with an ease that would surprise most people who think they know me.

confession: i like carrie underwood's "before he cheats." enough to buy it off itunes. which i have done.

i'm so ashamed.

You should be ashamed. While that song has a catchy beat and all (and I can't avoid hearing it because I live in a hick-town) if I was the boyfriend of the chick in the song she'd go to prison, if I didn't kill her first. What a heinous bitch!

That I dug my key into the side of his pretty little souped up 4 wheel drive,
carved my name into his leather seats...
I took a Louisville slugger to both headlights,
slashed a hole in all 4 tires...

Confession: My brother's recently gotten me into manga, the forbidden fruit I said I'd never taste.

If manga is the forbidden fruit, what would you call hentai?

Forbidden fruit being raped by tentacle monsters.

Or maybe forbidden rotten fruit.

Hmm... there's a lot of different jokes to be made answering that, but I think I'll refrain from most of them.