Monday, February 20, 2012

!@#$%^&*

It's almost midnight and I sit in a very very dirty room wearing, what I call 'the first signs of winters ending', borrowed boxers and t-shirt. It's also a reminder of a long overdue leg-waxing appointment. But that's another story.

I write this not to make a point but to kill time. When you are five days into having deactivated your Facebook account, you realize that Facebook takes away a lot of your time, yes. However, the bigger realization is that you probably didn't need as much time in the first place. Especially, if you're like me. 
Ive never really been into Superheroes, per se. But they have this kind of novelty, you know? So it's always great to think that you're like some Superhero too; at least at some points in your life. And then life happens and reality strikes and you realize that you're no Superhero; just plain old Garfield.
And I'm Garfield.
And hence I don't need all this time off Facebook. I just want to eat and sleep.
And drink and smoke and dance and have sex.
But Garfield sex, you know?

I just have one problem with Facebook - The stalker-hood it is! I go out, I sneeze, I come back home and log in- there's a picture of me sneezing on my profile! Ugh. It was consuming my entire life! And telling me I know way too many people or have one dress too less or repetitive makeup or Bah! I don't know. It's frustrating. And over 2500 pictures of you tagged by other people just does it.

So ya. I'm off. 
Not for good, though. It's just a little break.

It's like an ex flame you can't ever get rid of for too long. Im just saying.

I can't believe how much I've typed already. And most of it doesn't even make sense. Like, it makes sense to me because I've written it. Completely original ideas. Wow! I think I got this smart dating. I think you should date people wayyyyyy out of your league. Preferably older. And then let them teach you a thing or two. And then you break up. Because they're out of your league, remember? But not a messy break up. Then you move on. Don't worry about dying along. Because, believe it or not, you are never fucking alone! EVER. Even when you might want to be.
I think I write better on my laptop than on paper. Haha. Imagine! This is my better. I'm no writer. I thought I was a while ago. But then I realized I write just like I talk. And then sometimes I write giving away more than what I may have desired. That's not really a sign of a great writer, now is it?
See! All this time at hand! So much to do! But I would much rather Garfield around and blog about absolutely nothing!

Speaking of blogging about absolutely nothing, my blog turned two on the 13th of this month. Haha. Two years of my unpremeditated blabber about 'sex, parties, alcohol and friends'. 

"Girls your age talk about love and feelings"
"I talk about love. I love sex, parties, alcohol and my friends!!"

And of course I couldn't care less. And I forgot all about it until yesterday. Because I know I'm not a writer no more. The bigger question, however, is that if I ever was?

Now I'm bored and I'm out of smokes.
I miss my brother.

Goodnight.