ThankFool

Food..
Family..

Some of the essential F's to have in life

Thanksgiving has always been the one holiday during the season that I've ever actually cared about. What's more odd is how this one holiday just happens to fall in my most despised month of the year as well. It just seems a little peculiar that there would be a time in this month that I actually looked forward to...maybe November isn't as bad as I thought..

Now I never minded working on Xmas Eve or Xmas Day, those always were scratched off of my Holiday Request Forms anyway. However, working on Thanksgiving was just so...un-American to me? Maybe not as bad as working on the Fourth of July, but I'm sure pretty darn close..

I could try to come up with a reasoning for why Thanksgiving has a special place in my heart, but really, looking back on the past 10 years, those reasons really wouldn't hold any weight. I don't celebrate Thanksgiving in the most traditional sense - how the needy pilgrims almost on the verge of death tricked and conned the natives into sharing food allowing the pilgrims to survive and ultimately that would be the natives demise..having those settlers only to take over more land, kill, and push further and further West only to be secluded to what could accurately be described as concentration camps...you may be used to the phrase "reservations", same difference.

No, I take a more modern approach to the day, which has in my opinion, adapted over the years. Back when i was a kid growing up, it was a big feast and spending time with the family. The adults cooking massive amounts of food that you then would be trying to consume for the next week or so...but for me, it wasn't that family orientated..it was the same three people i saw on any other dinner..i don't recall any sort of traditions..Xmas music played, the fire place would be going..that was about it.

After highschool, those unsettled years, is when i believe i started to develop a sense for this holiday. Being on my own and not having a real home anymore I was picked up, adopted in a sense, by other families, friends, coworkers, etc. Being welcomed into someone else's home brought forth what the meaning behind this special day was. Being apart of others traditions (JELLO SLAPPING HERE), going 'round the table telling what each of us were thankful for, even though it was new to me, actually meant something. Having people open up their homes and kitchens for you on a day that is generally meant as a family get together stirred a warm feeling inside of me and gave me a sense of belonging - even during my weakest of months.

During those unsettled early years I focused a lot on the holiday shopping, making Black Friday apart of the holiday rituals. I anxiously stayed up all night, driving out to the malls and big stores, waiting in line, fought the crowds, sat in traffic, and was apart of the mayhem. It excited me. Most people said I was crazy for wanting to go out into such a mess, but after being out in it, I wasn't the only crazy person, in fact, I'd say there were a lot of them. Now granted, I didn't have lists, or agendas, or itineraries to follow - sure I looked over the Thanksgiving ads and spotted some things I wanted to grab, but I don't think I did it for "the savings"

Maybe the only type of saving that really was happening was a saving of myself. Being apart of something larger than me, the hustle 'n bustle, the crowd, and all the emotion that went into that day, that weekend, made me feel alive. Perhaps it was a culmination of that day, Thanksgiving, and the beginning of the holiday season that help cause an upswing to get me out of my November funk, driving home that final nail in the final weekend before a new month, and soon a new year began.

This year I am not spending Thanksgiving with family. And like years past I will probably just wing it, people tend to have more of a sense of pity this time of year. Whether I eat some turkey from an oven cooked bird or in a sandwich I bought from Subway, I'll make due. I didn't send out a mass text to everyone in my phone like so many people do; rather this time i sent the "Happy thanksgiving...i'm thankful blablabla" - a personalized account of what i was actually thankful for. As wonderful as it sounds, it of course could only be performed in such as a backhanded compliment that only the Jangus could give.

All in all, i'm not sure what i'm really thankful for, this year could be erased for all i really care - but that discussion is more for my year in review blog - i want to be thankful for having a girlfriend be faithful to me while i went to bootcamp, but i can't say that. I want to be thankful for meeting someone who challenges me in a way that only i've been known to do, but i can't do that. i want to be thankful for my new career choice, but i won't do that. I want to be thankful i'm not in indy, but i'm finding Californians rate pretty close to how horrible indy was, so i can't do that. i want to be thankful for a Michigan victory this weekend, but i can't do that, yet...

i'm thankful for the blessed union of mark and ginger - their enduring relationship is the only thing that really gives me hope for anything. God bless you two. Cheers.







"Thank you for being a frie-WILL SOMEONE TURN OFF THE RADIO!"

Hate This and I'll Love You

makes..
sense...

because that means you read it.

Why is it when a girl and I break up, amoung all the nasty things they say, they all will utter in some disdained fashion that they will stop reading my blog - better question, of all the things they say, why is it that that phrase is the one that hurts the most?

Maybe they say it because they know that will hurt the most, because of all the things in my life it's the one true indicator of what's going on, knowing me as best as possible from afar. And should they stop reading it, boycotting it, or whatever then it's a form of "out of sight out of mind." If a girl ends all communication with me, we stop talking, hanging out, whatever but she reads my blog then it's not a question of whether or not she cares, or misses, or thinks about me. In fact, should a girl actually read my blog, she automatically gets extra points.

Another common thing right around the time of the breakup is how said female will ask me to stop writing about her or her new man or whatever...if there's one thing that makes me say "fuck you" it's telling me what to do. Obviously I write about things going on in my life, obviously some girl deciding to be a bitch and breakup with me is going to get mentioned at some point...and obviously people hate getting called out on things, so when they see their stupidity posted for the public to see, they get embarrassed and, well, here we are. I'm sorry that I posted you're a slut and like to cheat on me, or how your new boyfriend beats you...I'm just stating facts, soooo sorry...but yeah, people hate having other people able to see how horrible they really are...and besides, after the breakup it's not like they are actually going to read the blog any more...

So those who read, care. Those who take the time to go to a random website where i spurt off crap from my fingertips to the empty hallows that is the internet, those are the ones who keep me going through this. I have several friends who solely read my blog to "keep in touch" - as random as that is.

And for those avid followers who stick by me through thick and thin, who put up with this bullshit..i applaud you. I know this is not award winning literature here. Again, thank you.

If there was a way I could accurately know who visit my website..well, i don't know if that would make me happy or sad...would i see that Sealy in CA was here reading..or TNA from LA...if so i'd be happy...but i probably wouldn't...I'd just see TTB from IN over and over again, or heck, my own ID for that matter.

I'd just like to know I mattered after the fact, after all was said and done, I still crossed the minds of those whose lives I was apart of...

I don't want to be erased or forgotten...i'd rather be remembered and hated...








"do i ever cross your mind..do i?"

Not Worth My Time

sometimes i gets stuck on a verse
but what you should know is that I don't rehearse
you get is what you see and what you see is what you get
and what we got is just a whole bunch of shit.

and now i only write this shit one time
just spew my thoughts upon the lines
so if it doesn't rhyme, i doesn't cry
so back the fuck off cuz i think it's fine

now many of you say i should just-go-back
and reread it so it's all-on-track
but what you all forget it's a stream of thoughts
and this type of writing it just can't be taught

i'm sure i could go back and edit-some-things
but it would lose all credible-meaning
and sure you can say these are all basic rhymes
but so you know i didn't stop typing not one time

and this only took a minute or two
but it was something that i had to do
but i'm just not through, not with you
and i'll continue cuz it's what i gotta do

so quit sitting there thinking that i-am-bad
cuz that type of shit it makes me-real-sad
you don't value what you got you miss what you had
and ignoring your feelings is what gets me so mad

what's the problem you got too much pride,
fuck, you need to push that shit aside-and
pick up the phone-and
drop a line, cuz you know this is only killing the both of us
and i may say this all too much
but you know it's true and you know what to do

..i don't think that's gonna happen soon





"i hate when i start rhyming shit all the time..."

Here,

just
read

I just don't know what to say..what do you want me to say..what do you want me to do..what???

I sit here in a state of confusion once again..it's that's uncomfortably all too familiar feeling. As soon as i think progress is made, somehow i find myself off the grid. It's like my GPS turns off when I'm back on track, leaving me on the corner of "what the fuck" and "don't look back"

I feel like crying out like Stitch, "I'm lost" - trying to find something at any cost.. Fuck, maybe I am Stitch..just some odd outcast that causes problems that people want gone..I'm just hoping to find something to call my home, is that so wrong is that so wrong..

I'm tired of turning over all these rocks..and time just keeps ticking away on those clocks..i bet you didn't know but i'm singing this to a kayne tune, dontcha worry dontcha worry you'll catch on soon..

if you don't know by now fool, i'm talking about..









"i need a sandwich.."

I'm Giving It Nothing

I couldn't eat my dinner, so I finished my drink instead. The bland meal matching that of the conversations at the end of the night. I starred into my glass as I swirled the melting ice around - it reminded me of you and how you used to chew on your ice. In fact, you were on my mind the entire evening, I just didn't want to acknowledge it at first. But I grew weary fighting it off and let my guard down. How I wished you would just do the same.

As I walked to my car I thought about calling you, but came up with an excuse not to. Of course once I got home that excuse was no longer valid. I sat on my couch, holding my phone, starring off once again. Your contact information was right there in front of me, yet you couldn't have been further from actually being with me. I wanted to call so badly, but even if I got through what would I say..that I missed you, this is Hell...I'd just be repeating myself and telling you things you already knew.

The odds were against me. You probably made sure I couldn't make these midnight confessions to you and blocked my number again. I don't blame you for that, wait maybe I do, maybe that's what I want to tell you; how foolish it is to try and go against the forces of nature. I toss aside the phone and go to my computer, figuring an email would have a better chance of getting to you. I hit "Compose" in an ironically fashion as the last thing I ever am when thinking like this is "composed." I add in your name and that's as far as I can get. Time passes and I continue to sit and stare at the screen - at an undeveloped message just like us.

Housekeeping

Cleaning up..
changing up..

trying to show i care

Every time i start to get balls deep back into my blog, I always go through a revamping of the layout itself...it only makes sense, the times have changed, there's a new chapter currently being written, time to spruce up the ol page itself.

I took some time just cleaning up some things, nothing really noticeable, just time consuming..change the widths on the side bars and blog posts themselves, that was something that drove me crazy..it looks cleaner in my opinion now. Changed the fonts a bit...you know, just little things i think give it a better look

I tried changing my background picture because i hate the fact i am using someone else's artwork...i have plenty of pictures to use, but they file sizes are too large and when i resize them, they just get tiled..it's annoying.

alright, that's all i got, just wanted to see how all the new functions were working, how it looked, etc...we will be back to our regularly scheduled program, now.








"the dust on this shit is killing me...fucking allergies..."

Conversation

bitch..
don't make me..

but instead i'm more like, what the fuck.....

So let me tell you a story about this mother fucker..this mother fuck...this mother fucker.....yeah it gets said twice..but let me back this ass up first...

Alright, so I'm at this boutique store right across the street from my house, I frequent the store often, maybe twice to three times a week depending. Now, naturally after visiting said place multiple times and seeing the same faces over and over again you start to build a nice rapport with the staff. Being new to an area I can always ask advice on where to go, get food, do whatever.

And of course, you all know me, you know how I am when it comes to talking to people, it's just what i do, it's what i've done..as shy as i've ever been all my life, being sociable is a skill i aquired at a young age...and then working in the industry is what really flared up this disease.

Anywhere i go i can start up a conversation with people..and this has always caused problems with former gfs because of the fact they think i'm "flirting" when in reality, it's just me being me; added in of course is "flirting" was my job for over 12 years and i recently broke from that...soooo get off your fucking self...

I digress. So naturally i go into the shop, make conversation, we don't detract too far off the topic of business..i do my thing, purchase whatever, and continue the conversation...then walks in this guy.

I think he's just another customer, but the exchange is different between the girl behind the desk and this new guy..as he takes a seat. Oh, i get it, they're together, ok whatever no big whoop, not a customer i'll continue talking. So then the lady asks me if I had anymore questions, which i don't, we bid our adieus and i go to my vehicle...however, on my way out the guy blurts out something that i know was said for me to hear.

"Fucking ridiculous" he says loudly, to which the lady says back, "what..what are you talking about?" - i know for a fact he's talking about me and not his day, but i want to give him the benefit of the doubt and i carry on.

I get to my car, hop inside, grab my phone from the center console and start playing catch up with texts. Now, my car is facing directly at the shop just a few rows away from it, and i notice the guy walk out..slowly go over to his truck, all the while looking over at my car..then he heads back inside..it's not but two seconds later he pops back out and starts walking again...howver this time he's not headed to his car...he's headed towards mine.

this should be good - is exactly what i say as i play with my phone not trying to pay attention to whatever the fuck is about to go down...i wait diligently then he's at my window waving, lord knows should he place a hand on my car shit would really go down. I pretend to be startled and give him a "you can't be fucking serious" look as i roll down the music with my left hand and turn down my music with my right...he begins to speak...

Guy - "Ca-can i help you?"
Me - "Ummm, no? You came to me?"
Guy - "Oh, uh, do you got something going on there.."
Me - "What?"
and before i could even finish that word he comes in with..
Guy - "That's my girlfriend in there"
Me - "Ok...???"
Guy - "We live together.....are you trying to steal my girlfriend?!"
Me - "Wait, what?! We we're just talking?"
Guy - "Oh, just talking, it looked like more than that"
Me - "??????" (yes, i said some noise that sounded like question marks) "You're joking right?"
Guy starts walking away, "That's my girlfriend....."
Me - "Sorry, I didn't know I couldn't have a conversation with someone....."
Guy - "It's ok"
Me - "Well obviously not"
guy continues walking away, doesn't respond...
mind you the guy was shaking as he spoke to me, and even backed up as i rolled down the window to greet him...

I continue texting and finalize plans before driving away...and it was about halfway to my destination that it finally hit me..and pissed me off...that fucking asshole...what the fuck was he thinking..what the fuck did he see that made him think there was more than just "talking" going on....the bitch was behind a desk..unless my penis somehow fucking grew to a length measured in yards and circled around, back behind, and all the way over to here, i'm pretty sure we were just talking..and he wasn't even there to hear what was said; tone, inflection, whatever.

Maybe that's why this insecure bastard was there to begin with...making sure his lady doesn't go home with any strangers that happen to pop into the shop. This of course is only going to make for an awkward situation the next time i make an appearance there and she's working. It will be awkward only because you know i'm going say some shitty comment like "due to your over-protective live-in boyfriend, i must cease and decist all future conversation with you. A polite "hello" will be allowed, however anything further will only give the insinuation to all those watching that my penis is, has been, or will be inside of you. you can thank you're awesome boyfriend. Sincerely, the jangus"

But honestly...i was more stunned by the situation that i couldn't really throw down at that moment...of course as the initial shock wore down, i was about to turn around and lay his stupid ass out. I can't wait to see him again.

people always seem to catch me when i'm in a good mood...consider yourself lucky.







"Don't worry 1117, i'm fucking your world up instead..i'm all smiles today"

Reading Into The Past

old posts..
rekindled feelings..

what was and what will never be

People have a tendency to look back on past events with an brighter outlook...as if somehow they've harnessed the rays from the sun into a flashlight as their peer back into the shadows of the past...even some of the worst moments hardly seem as bad.

Somehow I got back into posts from afar and couldn't help but smile. Even though i cursed more than twenty times a blog, even at times using that loveable phrase of "fuck off and die" - apparently it was the theme for a month back in '06 - it still brought joy to me.

And it was the events, the memories, and heck, even the writing that gave me those warm fuzzies. Why is it, especially with the writing, that I feel as if back then i could create something good, yet now I dribble on and on about crap...no real style or creativity to the writing..just rambling on without some ironic epiphanic wording or phrase that makes your reading eyes orgasm.

I want to write more than just a re-telling of my story. I want to be able to express myself better with words..bah, even that statement could be re-wrote to sound better. I try to write little short stories or poems and it just doesn't bode well with me...I spend too much time and effort into creating something..then recalibrating it..adjusting it..re-wording it..destroying it. I'm always trying to create something so brilliant it will blow your mind, always trying to add such little intricacies into everything such as "ooohhh he used six syllables in every line" "the third letter of every fifth sentence spells out whom he is writing about"

I do those types of things because those are the things that get me off, those are the things that get me..sure there's words and meaning, but if you can pull off some mathematical craziness in the process, if there's a deeper meaning or a secret the author hid in the work, that makes me happy to know. It's like the inside joke of writing..maybe only writer wrote it for just one person..who knows, but it's special..and i want to write like that.

maybe it just takes some practice...maybe my writing now is just as good as my writing back three years ago..maybe I need to keeping writing now to hone in on this skill, to improve upon it, to maybe someday write that book that everybody keeps asking for...

funny because in my dedication page it will list everyone who refuses my existence.








"Crap...I don't remember what I forgot..."

Voicemail

All I ever wanted or needed was a little understanding from you. That I was going through tough times in my life and that I needed you now the most. I tried to explain the severity that November was to me. Apparently I didn't suggest strongly enough. You told me I was being stupid - that everything would be fine. You pushed me away as I tried to step into your life and explain myself. You told me on my drive out that you couldn't do it anymore.

I remember that drive home. I turned around. I tried to call you. God, why was I being so stupid? I knew you couldn't offer me any more. You were fed up. We were finished. As the line was repeatedly ringing, it was abruptly interrupted and went to your voicemail. "Leave a message," is what I heard. It had been a while since I had heard that. I knew you weren't picking up on purpose.

I wanted the words to spill. For you to be able to take me for who I was. To openly accept the feelings you had. Then it beeped, I knew I had to say the words now or I would never have another chance to do so again. But they were stuck in my throat. I couldn't say anything at all. Fuck. For a guy who always has something to say I was failing at this moment. The people passing me probably wanted to curse me out as they thought I was some kind of fool who had nothing better to do with my life.

I placed the phone back in the center console and I drove back home - contemplating if I should even try again...ever try again...I couldn't fathom the last time hearing your voice to just be a recording.

I Feel Sick

must...
write...

to keep...promise....

I'm not gonna blame the night of crying, or the two days straight of drinking, or the four days off from work...i'm gonna blame the chicken wings I just ate - sad part is, those were kept refrigerated..unlike the pizza i ate for breakfast that obviously sat out all night long..

Ugh, I went to the gym to make up for the day lost yesterday, I probably spent more time rambling on about my life than I spent doing my actual workout. You know me, I like to jar on of stories that sound so ridiculous that they almost sound made up, rather it is just my everyday life. At one point one of the people listening in spouted off that I needed to write a book..I chuckled of course because that blanketed statement gets tossed at me more than panties at a Tom Jones concert.

I of course replied back that I do write, it's in the form of an online blog, and so making a book would just be silly - also, what the eff would I ever write about? Now I realized that most of my hits on the blog in the recent months have only occurred whenever I mentioned it in a post on dailybooth..and as we all know, as of 11:11 11/11/11 that I ended my stint on that particular website. That should not come to any surprise for you who have been following, it came close to an end back in August of just last year, and I've been toying with the idea ever since. Just until recently have I taken the time to really assess just what practicality it was to still be using such a form of social media.

(i would like to ask...how the fuck I gained three followers well after the time i posted my last post..really people?)

Sure I could continue to use it in the sense of whoring out my blog with posts dedicated solely to that..but really, if those who were reading my original dailybooth posts couldn't grasp the genius that was in those posts, I highly doubt they would even make it past the opening blurb in these blogs.

that and i'm tired of meeting people who have nothing better to do than fuck with my time.

So at one point I stop telling my story to the crowd encircling me at the gym and I go workout...just a 45 minute workout did the job, i broke a sweat and I packed up my bags. On my way out I said goodbye to the front desk, finishing up of course with whatever filler I may have unintentionally left out from the previous stories. As doing so, one of the earlier members walked by and questioned if i ever left to workout...amidst my laughing, the front desk worker responded in amazement telling the returnee how i had some crazy stories, and started to suggest i tell them again..i apologized as i didn't have the time for such a thing, as much as i would have enjoyed it, i really had to be on my way...and away i was.

I'll make the note that telling a live audience about the random nonsense that is my life ultimately deteriorates any blogging that will come later in the day from me. See, my blogs are my thoughts at that moment, whatever the hot topic is in my head for the day or that moment in time will get unleashed in the blog....but if i rant before then..whether it be to someone else, to myself, or just making full thoughts in my head..the rant escapes, the blog post fades away..as if it's been erased..from history (familiar feeling there bud?)

As i make my way to my car, which for some reason i always park way too far away from the front doors, i start to think...is my life really that interesting? "Write a book" they all say, but who the heck wants to read this dribble...how is this any different from the random crap that happens to everyone else? I mean, I understand that i'm awesome and all, but really, i don't feel as if i am any more special...am i wrong to think this? Is it my stories that are intriguing or they way they are recanted..

all these answers and more will be revealed in blogs to come, of course, only you hold the answers..








"I'm sooo hungry...wait, now i'm gonna puke....ugh, i want to eat...wait...ughhh"

It's Not You, It's Me

When being great..
..isn't great enough

the woes of somebody just trying to get it right.

Whoa, did i just put a period at the end of that sentence..do I normally do such a thing? Eh, I've been off the past....24 hours, wow, that's it? seems like eternity, though I can't imagine Hell being much worse..on the subject, i suppose i should get used to this feeling as i have been constantly reminded i will spending, well, forever there...awesome.

Besides having people's ideas beaten into me, i'm tired of a lot of different things right now. I'm tired of these relationships i get into where the other person uses the excuse of the "situation" to justify a means to an end..how people can't handle the situation, or they aren't ready for such a thing..wait...

what...sad thing is, i've been doing this since...2005?! I should have learned with Mandolin that I wasn't good enough then, and that I'd somehow still carry on with the soul-searching all the while to continue not being good enough the rest of my life. That I would be told i was awesome, or great, or amazing, or whatever...but for whatever the reason..timing, bullshit, cantthinkofanymorelameexcusesthesebitcheshavegivenme, it wasn't going to work out. And that makes me think - because you know how strong of a believer i am in not only love but Machiavelli - that if i was truly this great guy that they alllllll say i am, why, rather, how could they not stick it out and be with me?

How is it that i come upon these women at just the right, or rather wrong times in their lives...where we make a connection, all is well, yet it's not right right now. Am I doomed to be Ed Bloom and visiting Spectre all too soon? and then too late?

After finally realizing i've been getting the same responses all too often, especially with this back to back recent fucking that I can only wonder if it isn't "not me"..such a weird wording...ok, instead it is me. People are supposed to learn more about themselves from breakups, right? well what's there to learn if people aren't honest with you.. *sidenote, my favorite is when they are purposefully lying to either upset you so you can hate them, and/or so they can believe their own lies as well*

Something seems to not fit into this puzzle, and the puzzle is making me lose my mind. I'm tired of people not being true..true to others, true to themselves, true to their own fucking feelings. Don't tell me you're getting attached to me and like me and how amazing i am..yet a day later you're up in arms and wanting to never speak to me again...oh wait, that post that mentioned all that was deleted...

You can't take back words or feelings..you can do your best to pretend they were never there, that they never existed, and ultimately that i never existed..you can try and attempt this, but honestly, the only person you're really fooling is yourself.....and life is full of enough people who will try and do that to you already, so why do that..

What really pisses me off is how one can believe in fairy-tales and chasing after love, yet when confronted with a somewhat typical love-story (somewhat typical as defined as the tumultuous situation involving the lovers) that person runs and hides..and even after the failed attempts of chasing after my Cinderella with a shoe and one headlight, i just find myself running til i'm breathless and i drop; lying in the gutter is only lonely when you make a blog about it.

Your hands go to the strings, mine go to the keys..









"What are you scared of, baby, It's more than just a dream, We make a beautiful team"

Why Does God Hate Me So..

left..
blank..

yeah, that's what i got

I started to write this 3 hours ago....that was before i started drinking and before i started getting texts and phone calls...ugh...i was hoping to make this like a four part series, but now...i got nothing

i feel bla now and i am horrible with the keys, not alicia..wait, yes, in fact maybe yes...alicia keys, is that her name..ugh, my witty remarks are falling on blind eyes right now. I quit the daily booth today...it's something i have been toying with my head, in fact i told..i can't come up with a good name to call her right now...british girl? she was mad at the idea, but whatever, i'm over it...it's cause nothing but harm...just like that infernal time machine!

i don't know what it is, or what's going on..i'm tired of not being good enough..yet in the same breath all these bitches will say "you're so great"..really? if i was great things would be different...i'm great, but not great enough apparently.

how do i cause all this stress?!

don't fucking tell me it's not me it's you...i've heard that way too much in the past month to believe otherwise. obviously there is something wrong with me..i should have learned from...*shifts eyes left shifts eyes right* miiiiindy that i wasn't good enough, that i was good but not good enough. that i somehow had the excellence of picking the "best" times ever to enter into a girl's life...

i apparently will continue to be an erased chapter out of everyone's fucking life.....oh shit, there's that word again...fuck....i guess if i use that word, fucking, every other word it means i am not of sound mind to hold an actual conversation with because i am either being defensive or angry or something..fuck.

i'm sorry i follow my emotions and my heart..i'm sorry i was made this way...i think i cried more about tonight than i ever did that slut whatsherfuck..i'm ot really really good with names tonight, please forgive me..i spend enough time on the delete key, so give me that.

i just don't get things....if i like you, and you like me..what's stopping us from being together...

god is great and i am not...i'm not trying to steal your thunder, i'm just doing my thing, don't hate me for it...afterall, you made me this way.

well...i'm at the point where i want to break everything in sight, so i should just go to bed...way to go 11/11/11, you've definitely been memorable..







"43 q4 e r r ggggg"

(Apparently)

Love..
is..

not enough..

It's taken me all the way until now to realize this horrifying fact, love is not enough. Well, that's apparently what others would want me to think...and you know what, maybe they are on to something.

All my life I've always been a hopeless romantic, wearing my heart on my sleeve, believing in something so powerful, so amazing that is love..but yet as time went on, I grew older I also became more bitter, more cynical, more jaded...every heartbreaking moment would only leave all those little pieces of my heart more and more jagged..to the point where reassembling it at times almost seems impossible.

I've probably wrote a million times how "true love" doesn't exist, how foolish it is to think out of the billions of people in the world you were destined to be with just that one. We've just been brainwashed by media, society, and everyone we know that it's real, it's out there, it's for you...We've heard the songs, seen the movies...we know the parts, yet, it doesn't pan out like that...songs, stories, books, movies...they are just an amplified exaggeration of something that's real...like putting a stick on a horse's head

We all want to believe in something so good (no bash on religion here, I have enough demons to slay at the moment) that we strive for our version of it, mold it to be what we want and just pretend...those who are in love are guilty of pretending.

and pretending is knowing something isn't real, love isn't real...because if love were real, let me tell you, it would be "enough."

You can't sit there and believe in a thing called love yet in the same breath say that you need more, love just isn't enough..Love, by definition, is supposed to be enough..Love is the Answer, Love is all that matters...so when you tell me that "love isn't enough" I say to you 'bull'...I don't want to be apart of that horrible world where you don't really know what love is, for if you did, that would be all you needed.

Nothing else matters if you love someone..it doesn't matter if they're young/old/black/white/stupid/smart/whatever...if you have love in your heart for someone, if you have these feelings for someone..they are there...they are real..they are there for a reason..to say you need more, or it's not worth it, it's going nowhere is a farce..it's a lie..because if you actually cared, actually felt, the end would justify it all.

You go on living your life thinking there's more to be in love than love, and I'll keep pretending that love is all you need, because at least in my world there's possibility.

i'll keep pretending.










"Love conquers all"