For the longest time, I've forgotten how it feels to irrationally be in a bad mood. To not have enough civility to even strike a pretend-smile.
Thank you 2009.
I'm still not in the mood. And what makes it worse is I'm jotting it down for records sake... the first of my 2009 post, just after the pretty 2008-ender.
Fuck. Fuckity fuck.
It is undoubtedly easier to ask for an apology for somethig you did not do than to ask one for social faux pas that you are very much guilty of.
When you do not have the courage to say sorry, then it must very much mean that the offence is yours to begin with.
Pride is a bitch. And so is everyone aged 15 and above.
"Bitch." You know that I'm 'wrong' but I meant it. Crispy, in a whisper, but crystal clear... "Bitch".
Without a period. Not worth of a capitalized first letter.
...You know that we don't do that because of the overflowing we love we have for each other. It's even this close to unimaginable.
I want to say sorry. But I still hate you.
Breathe in, breathe out.
And until I cool off and until my pride has detoriorated itself. Sigh.
Just as something I've learned from somewhere states...
"Don't let it ruin your day."
I already pretty much have.
I want to draft this due to its extremely negative contents, but it's refreshing for the audience...so there we go.
Thursday, January 1, 2009