i’m finally done that horrid essay. writing that accursed paper was single handedly the worst thing i’ve ever experienced in my life. and now that i’m done, i’m too tired to sleep. or maybe it’s not so much being tired as wanting to see how long i can last(?)
in any case, i guess there’s nothing left for me to do but rant; and rant i will, tirelessly, mercilessly, unrelenting in the most extreme.
silly little girl. i saw the photo. i saw the way you kissed him, so fervently, so vehemently. you looked so in love, and although your eyes were closed, i could tell by the composition of your entire face; you are giving everything you are to him. but you are just a silly girl. can’t you see how he wants to pull away? i don’t even think his eyes are fully closed; he can’t even give you that. here you are, all passion, all love, and there he is, reluctant, revolted. there is so much in that kiss, that kiss you so earnestly give him, that kiss you want him so badly to return. wake up. open your eyes. his eyes are open, as you give that kiss.
moving on. are you really happy settling? you know you could do so much better. why is our generation so obsessed with relationships? what is this need to love and be loved in return? why can’t you just wait for someone worthy of your attentions? i can think of nothing worse than settling; it’s a false kind of happiness. you’re not in love. you’re in love with the idea of being in love. if he were to vanish tomorrow, how devastated would you be? how quickly would you get over it? maybe i’m being presumptuous, but something in your manner, in your dismissive way, tells me i’m not. it’s the sense that you do not love him; you merely tolerate him. he was merely there, and so were you. right place, right time, but not the right person, i don’t think. let me know when he’s out of the picture. let me know if you’re sad at all.
and you; you’re a disgrace. stop this pathetic hunt. i’m tired of you walking out, barely clothed, hoping for someone to approach you, tell you he loves you. who are you hoping to meet at a nightclub? someone who wants to be with you? someone who will last? you won’t find that there. they just want your body. they want you for the most fleeting of moments. they’ll want anyone who wants it bad enough. and you want it bad enough. and that is the saddest thing.
why are you all so tragic? why can’t you just be happy with who you are? in what sorry place did you find this need to be validated by others? i’d call you pathetic, but i love you all. so please, stop this foolishness. for me.