So are ties and suits. And silk sheets. And finger foods. Like strawberries and whipped cream.
I am second guessing my relationship. I say that, but like, I know I’ll just forgive him and love him again soon. I just get so mad. He’s such a dick. He won’t let me live in my fantasy world and he doesn’t understand that reality slowly drains all the life out of me. I need to dream, to believe that I can achieve anything I want. It keeps me going. And I’m not as shallow as I seem, nor as nice as I appear. I can be a mean son of a bitch when necessity calls. As well as mildly vindictive and evil. Nobody believes it until they see it. “You’re too nice” they say. Psh. I’m capable of so much more. Bleh. I feel like I’m playing mommy to him sometimes. And then of course I don’t want to have sex with him, I’m tired from being the fucking housewife and working my ass off just to be poor. All the while I don’t feel very supported in my wild dreams. He doesn’t outright say they’re stupid, but I know it’s on the tip of his tongue. It’s getting to the point where I don’t even want to tell him things just because I really don’t want to hear what the fuck reason he has as to why it’s not going to work out and I’m not being realistic and yadda yadda.
Shit. Maybe I should go.
I’d feel like a shit person, but really. Maybe I should.
I’m about to turn twenty one. I’m a wonderful girlfriend, but it never seems to work out with anyone. Maybe I should move in with Mandi. See what happens.
Maybe it would be for the best.
I don’t get why people love going out to bars. I can’t be the only one who thinks they’re lame. A bunch of boozed up people trying to have sex with eachother? No thank you. Id rather stay home and sit on the couch and drink glasses of wine until my eyelids are fighting gravity and then fall asleep. I kinda don’t want to be 21 because then people are going to expect me to go out with them. No thank you.
Honestly, I want to be famous. Is that so much to ask? To want people to fawn all over me and want to be inside me? To look good 98% of the time? To have money and an adoring fan base?
Or I could just marry Justin and live happily ever after.
Either would work, really.
Ugh. Today was my first day camming. I thought it was going to be easier, you know? Whatever. Just keep pushing, right? It is a job. I’m just so tired, you know. Sick of my 9-5 job. Not really wanting to be a prostitute, but whatever. I don’t have a problem with the tits, it’s just the other thing that kinda freaks me out.
I wish life were easier.
it’s totally acceptable to call me colored right now.
i’m a sad little girl.
fuck work.
cartoon boobies!
camera effects, man.
