& then I forgot this.

What it was like to have an actual guy call.

Like talk on the phone. Not just text and to be able to have a conversation without going sexual, only light, verging on polite flirting.

I forgot what it was like. It's been so long because I don't/won't/can't answer the phone and am very selectively about who I talk to on the phone. Especially when it comes to guys.

Especially when it comes to my (potential) fuck buddies. But he called. He called me and I said fuck it, and decided to pick up, thinking he just wanted to hear my voice and make sure it was me, voice confirmation.

But it brought back memories.

And it was nice. I forgot about how nice it is. To have a guy just talk to you, no bullshit involved or before it starts and I realized this is the way it should have been, with Meaty. yeah, I admit it Mikko, and maybe this is why you logged in to see if I had any of my confessions. I didn't, because you already know how I wanted it to be with him, and then not.

But it doesn't matter, or maybe it does. Because he's still talking to me, and now we reached a point that I don't even know how to describe.

but this phone call, it reminded me so much. Of how I used to be. That girl. You know, when I was with someone. A girlfriend. A person. I've become so used to texts that are so removed from me, and then just being with a guy and not talking with him because we didn't exactly meet up to talk, that I forgot what it was like.

It's nice but I have to put it away now. It'll be another memory and I'll look back upon it as just that. Because if I allowed it to be much more than that, then it'll start to matter.

And he doesn't matter. And he won't.

But it was still nice. If only for a little while :) But I feel bad for my less fortunate friends who won't get this attention from guys because I don't know why. Either they attract the attention but are too picky, or they don't but only from guys who are not really guys but creepers, or they just get it from their ex, which is just a world of fuck up hurt waiting to happen, but they don't get it. I don't know why.

I never saw myself as particularly attractive. (Unless I'm being cocky) I mean look at me, I am overweight and still working on it when I hope I wouldn't be as much but life kinda took over and pushed away my jogging routine.

Maybe soon again when I will take it up. I have to, if I am going to be leg humping again. I want myself in the best shape possible for twisties.

I guess the point of this blog is that I have to remember what it's like being me. Completely me and happy with myself again. I forgotten that too. Was remembering. But then the schedule kicked in and I didn;t have time to be myself, to completely recovered from my last boyfriend. My ex. Yes it was short, so short of a time we were together, it seems crazy now to see how much I became attached to him. But at the time it wasn't and I let myself fall. Fall for him. Fall in love, and it hurt after the fact. Just broken hearted for a long time, and just made me really question. He said he would remembered long after I have moved on, what he didn't know is that I knew it would be the opposite. He would be with a girl first, and only mourn the relationship a few days, a week at most, and I would still be trying to get over it.

Just because I was attached, and this is why I don't like to get attached because when I do get attached, I do it (to quote my cousins) FOR REALS.

I do it FOR REALS. No half assing it. I go all the way and give over my heart, love shouldn't be half ass. Not one bit. Which is why I'm selective and chose to fuck around than date.

I say I can't date because of my parents but that's not the whole truth. It just adds to it. I really don't date because it tends to mess with my head. My heart. Am I scare? Yes. I don't want to put myself through it if I don't think the guy is worth it.

So I'll continue to fuck around and have as much fun as I can with guys and hopefully girls. I want girls. I wants lots of them. I want them to come to me, and I want to play and I want girls. But for right now, I'm going to concentrate on riding and getting through the night. Day. week.

Without remembering fuckface.

I thought I saw him today, making a turn. My heart JUMPED and I was so happy of the way I handled the truck even though my heart stopped. But then my second thought was "you're too poor to own that nice of a corvette." And I kept driving. but but but. Like any time that happens, he stayed in my mind.

He was my adoration. The love of my life. He hurt me so much that even now, some songs still reduce me to tears when I think about him.
But all I can do is toast to that fucker's fate and hope his life deteriorate daily and for one day, just once, I would like to laugh and have fate laugh with me when he sees me driving in a nice car, and before he realizes who it is, I want him to think- hot girl driving. Fucker. You thought I couldn't drive, you said so yourself, that I shouldn't drive, that I had a distracted personality, that I wouldn't be able to drive. That I was too "nervous". & I'm ashamed that I agree with you. that you would reduce my independence so much. fuck you and your shitty car, my car may not be new but it'll never break down on me like it does yours and is newer. Just wait, one day. I will get my own bike, fuck what anyone says, I will learn to ride, and you will have to owe up to the fact that you fucked up with me. OH & the reason why I have such a "distracted" personality is not because I can't control myself, oh no buddy, it's the opposite, it's because I am thinking a millions thoughts at a time.I am thinking thoughts that you can't even dream of because of your limited imagination due to your inability to have passion for anything outside of yourself and your puny paycheck and your car. Anything else in your head going on? Nope. No ambitions beyond slaving away at a crappy job for one good day of paintballing. Fucking idiot, and I'm not saying I'm better than you, but you will never understand what it's like to actually THINK. I have dozens of layered dreams, and guess what fucker? Most of them are coming true and if not, I am working on it and won't stopped till they are coming true.


YOU

Majorly fucked up. I was willing to give you everything and you knew it, and you threw it away for a little high school tramp. Fucking 15! You were 20 turning 21! Wtf were you thinking! Did she give you that good of a blow job? Was it because I was timid in giving you blow jobs? And the only reason why I was so timid was because you fucker, had a big dick. If you had given me damn time, I told you I was working on it. I never given blowjobs before you! I was a late bloomer, and only had 2 guys before you and one of them was the guy I lost my virginity to. Idiot. I was learning. Did that scare you? Knowing that I was always learning and intent on always doing so. Placing value in my education? Well, my education has gotten me to the point where the other day at work, when I ate a big banana, I got stared at. 3 stares and one guy who had to look back at me.

Yeah, I learned a few things. Fucking idiot. Your loss and I can't wait till you realized how well I did for myself. Am doing for myself.


...wow when did this turn into a rant?

X_X

Friends?

Sometimes I want to stop talking to you because I feel myself getting dumb down, numb down at the hopelessness of your situation.

I know that I am one of your few friends who actually care about you but must you burden me so, it's like constant 24/7 with you and I am tired. I asked you about your other friends since you have so many on facebook, knowing a 1000 people and who else were you going to invite and you invite only my social circle of friends, and only one on your part?

I fear you are leeching my friends because you can't make any of yours and I feel shitty for feeling this way because of the fact that you are a good person caught in a bad situation that has become your trap.

I was hoping the books that we read will help you and I do see progress but my patience has run out with you. I am sorry honey, but please cheer the fuck up, and start thinking positively and get up your ass for once and air out your place and you might not under the weather as you constantly are but jeez louise if I lived in your place and did not clean it like you did, I'm sure I would be constantly suffering from respiratory troubles as well.

I am angry. I am tired. I have little patience with you.

You have no idea how much you have with what little you have. I am jealous because of what little you do have, you do not take advantage of it.

If I were in your place, I would be living different lives all the time. You do not appreciate your life and I can hear you saying that there is nothing to appreciate to it but that's the problem. You are and the way you think about your life. Not your life itself.

You have no clue when was the last time I woke up and only had to take care of myself at home. I love vacations so much, traveling by myself because I wake up at the time I want to and I breathe when I realized that the only person I have to be responsible for, is myself. That is something rare for me and you have it everyday and could care less. How unfair. That is just one thing, there are so many elements to this life, to your life that you can't even appreciate even though it's right under your nose because you have not live my life or the life of someone who has to wake up every day and fight because we were born minorities, discrimination found in the face of neighbors, of entering a place like a scholarship review, a book discussion, a classroom, a gala, and knowing that the first thing people notice about you is not what you are there for, not your pretty face, not your acknowledgment as a person, but rather you are acknowledge by your race and the fact that you feel immediately that they think you do not belong there and are pity, yes fucking pitied like a lost dog because they think that you're trying, even though the majority of your race is working behind some stove or cleaning up someone else's toilets. That is labor, not the little job you so constantly bitch about which I don't get at all because seriously, you are not earning your money with the sweat off your brow. You haven't worked underneath the sun right at it's highest point. You have never worked a job that has given you calluses on your hands, you have to be constantly on your knees cleaning, and made you dog tired when you got home that you just collapse on the couch and NOT be able to get up because you are so damn sapped of everything and then you have to do it again the next day. So shut up already about it. I know what real work to bitch about is and that isn't it.

So tell me when you are complaining of having nothing to do, of being bored, do you blame me for wanting to not talk to you because of the fact that I have to try at least 6 times harder, house responsibilities riding on me, filial duties constantly at my side, work, school, and grabbing each spare minute to work on myself and hope that one day I will accomplished what fuels me. I take the blame for my patience , but honey, please for once, try to be a little considerate.