I’m the master of it talking to people anymore for my own veil reasons. I guess that’s the definition of a grudge. I don’t have a grudge, however.
I quit talking to people because of a litany of different reasons. If you piss me off more than 10 times, on the 11th, I realize that you’re an annoying fat piece of shit that I shouldn’t waste my time talking to anymore.
The reasons for that may not make too much sense to you, but they make sense to me and it takes two to tango.
I know a few people who read (that’s past tense) my blog. It seemed like they’d do or say things to me to be the focal point of my entries.
It’s uber weak. Suck my dick please and thank you. Hope you like the taste of it. And this is mainly to the person whom this is obviously directed at… We don’t talk. At all. We never really did after a while.
But then you send me a text which I think if I said something negative to would’ve turned into “I just wanted to see what you would say”. Like get a life. I’m not sure how this person imagines the rest of his life but he’s not making a good run for it in the here and now.
If it’s impossible for you to put yourself out there, you’ll never get anything that you desire. Or think you desire. If you’re in the backseat the whole time, how can you drive?
And this is about EVERYTHING. Not just about how I feel. You look like a delicate flower. I don’t know if I could ever de-flower someone and make it mean something. After all the history. Your closest and only friend’s cock has been inside of me. Like come on. I think that’s when it’s like yo, I gotta stop this.
But some of it is my fault. I thought it would work. I thought it could work. And I thought I could pat his lack of confidence and make him a new man but… You can’t put lipstick on a pig… Whatever.