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Friday, February 29, 2008


This ain't a mutiny, it's a gawddamn travesty
I CAN'T FUCKING TAKE IT ANYMORE!!!!!!!!
I know I've been saying this forever and I know you're all sick of hearing about it, but trust me, none of you are as tired of it as I am.
(WARNING: The rambling shall now commence.)
I don't know him, but, Dear GOD, I WANT to know him. I want to be able to talk to him and laugh with him and be his friend, and I am SO, SO, so, so, sooooooooo damn sick of being stalker, his observer, his infatuated little audience member. I swear. I'm about to burst. All I ever do is sneak oh-so-tantalizingly compressed stares at him in between time intervals that are only about 10 seconds, but feel like 10 hours, in length. Honest to God. I would literally donate a kidney to Satin just to be able to keep following him home in secret.
And, yeah, fine, I admit: it's not really him, it's his face and his hair and his body and his ass that I'm in love with; so, yeah, I'm a horribly shallow, un-deep, superficial, stereo-typical little fan-girl of a whore. There. Happy? I admit it. I know next to nothing about him and therefore have no right whatsoever to say I love him, but I swear, if I have to go through one more week of this drawn-out, endless, pointlessly agonizing highschool romance bullshit, life is simply no longer worth living. I'm going bloody insane to the bloodiest degree.
Every time I hear his name on the bus or in the bible--because, you know, he does have a biblical name--my ears always perk up in anticipation or I always pounce right on the chapter/verse where I saw it, and always look for any sign at all of what it might say of what Danny thinks of me or what he's going tomorrow or what he had for breakfast this morning. And then, when I discover it tells nothing of the sort, I'm always left to stare in bewilderment, wondering "Well, what does THAT have to do with anything?" even though I had known perfectly well from the beginning that it never pertained to anything That Bitch-related in the first place.
And then whenever his little sister comes over to play with my little siblings, I always internally mutate into such a heartless user, always warming up to her and asking her how she's been even though I couldn't care less, just on the off chance that she'll let slip something about her oh-so-charming older brother. "The only reason I love you is because I love him." I know. It's disgusting. I hate myself for doing it. But not as much as I hate myself for enjoying it. (The information, I mean, not the insincerity.)

I can't stand it. I don't even know what it is anymore. I thought it was just a crush, but it lasted way too long and it feels way too intense. Then I said it was love, but I don't even know the guy. I don't know...
All I can say now is: I may be shallow and this whatever-the-hell-it-is may be superficial, but that doesn't change how deeply I feel it...

Anyway. I'm probably going to read all that later and smack myself for being so damn banal and melodramatic, so I'm just going to end this post now, before I embarrass myself anymore. Okay? Okay.
~[{Shadowme}]~

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