"Uh, dude, some retard put onions on your onion-less pizza. Is that a showstopper for you or would you like that remade? Oh, alright, cool, I'll throw in some free food too." - Some Donatos guy.
If you don't give up, life still can fuck you over.
Bullshit life into believing it'll work, and it might.
I love when people surprise me by being clever and interesting. It makes it seem as if humanity has a hope by circulating positive karma. I do my best. I try to be so much more entertaining than I really am. I am never confident in anything I do because I never get reassured enough, and when I do, I don't believe the person reassuring me. I more often than not get shit for all the things I do.
I've become a realist who encountered a full-blown romance and let it change me. It's annoying grip on me becomes more prominent every day. I like it. I hate it. I think I'm in love with myself for being in love with someone else, unfortunately. I'd run if I could, but I already gave in and gave up. So I quit smoking because I knew it'd impress her. I quit smoking as a personal testament to a truce on the war against myself. I quit smoking because I was beginning to enjoy it too much, and that's slightly tragic.
I can't get lost in anyone like I get lost in her. I won't trust anyone like I trust in her. If worst comes to best, I'm going to college, getting married, having a child, and settling down too early for anyone else to respect me for. Not necessarily in that order. It'd be interesting to see the reactions of my family should best come to worst. I don't want to miss having this opportunity in the future, because I know the value of what I have now.
But hey, if worst comes to worst, I'll be tragic enough to write better.
I have a cut on the inside of my lip. It's killing me. It won't go away. Salt water, listerine, nothing will cure it. But I know it'll be gone eventually. It won't end my life. Although while I have it, damn this cut.
I started writing a book called The Wishing Fields. I don't know what it's about. Because I'll never get it right. I got it from a dream. Lke most my worst/best ideas. I'm working on it. The overall idea is a girl who comes to expect more than what she has, and a boy who's reaction is to want to give her more than he has. They both don't know each other well enough to justify a damn thing, but they are an essential part of each other's life. She can predict his life, he's sure of nothing but that he loves her, and is guaranteed to fuck up until he gets it right.
Second chances are usually much more effort than they're worth.
The fifty-second chance is usually the one that'll kill or make you.
