Fingers pointed, unusually large eyes, and the absolute refusal to put things gently.
Accusingly. Fingers pointed, unusually large eyes, and the absolute refusal to put things gently.
So, I said, I'll take it in stride, and yes, I'm not bothered anymore. I just have nothing to write, and I thought I'll write about it, and we'll see where things go. It's just that, well, it's scary.
Here it is. You want this? You got it. I was not called a bitch for nothing.
And yes, I looked like a lost dog, but nobody really tells me anything, and I understand. Or, well, I'm just used to it. And you'll all go "what?" and think I'm absolutely stupid.
No, no, no, I'm not talking to myself. You are a ghost, aren't you? Stay away from me. You do not exist.
So sometimes I think about it. This is it. The moment I long knew would happen, and the moment I still cringe. Oddly, I revisit it. Often. I must be that desperate. Fingers pointed, unusually large eyes that say "I don't want to deal with you..."
And the absolute refusal to put things gently.
But I haven't done anything.
12/11/2009
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Niko Batallones writes The Upper Blog.
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