You Guys Are Probably Right

Probably, I'm just on the rebound. Probably, I'm just getting my leg over. Probably, it's just that I haven't had sex in so long, I'm getting confused by all the happy fluttering endorphins and hormones swimming through my veins like Uncle Kracker (you know the song; ''All you know is, I make you free/and swim through your veins like a fish in the sea...'')

There's some danger of digression there. Moving on, and my point is--fuck you guys. No offence meant (lots taken?) but he's a little man-babe, and I'm having him, and if anybody gets hurt it wont be me because I'VE BEEN TOO FUCKED FOR TOO LONG, NOT IN THE NICE WAY, AND THERE'S NOTHING LEFT OF ME TO HURT.

That's the whole *point* of this blog. I started it because I was burning, and bitter, and angry, and yes okay a little bit of a whinge, and I needed to vent my rage, because I'd already cried myself out of tears.

I have cried myself out of man-tears (that's tears over/about/regarding men, obviously; I'm not implying that I shed particularly manly tears, which would surely be a contradiction in terms). The next guy I cry over will be my son, if he turns out to be A) autistic, or B) a prat. Other than him, well... I'm just not sure men are worth it, to tell you true. From where I'm sitting, you--and that is literally all men, really, pretty much every last one of you--seem to be one part uselessness and two parts delusions of grandeur, with a splash of self-righteous advice-giving thrown in for good measure.

Does that sound good to you...? It's not, really. In spite of my natural inclination towards you, you're not all that tasty a beverage, as a rule. And if I've found one of you I can stomach for even a few weeks, nevermind months or years or eternity, I'm gonna count myself lucky and drink my fill. That's all you can hope for, really, isn't it--fuck knows love doesn't last even when it IS real, and most of the time it's just lust anyway, and who even gives enough of a shit to learn to tell the difference? Not me. Not anymore. I'm just taking my thrills as they come, or cum, as the case may be, and not worrying about anything else. Besides.

Everyone's probably right. I couldn't possibly be in love with him.