Veni, Vedi, Fendi

Tuesday, December 15, 2015

Disgruntled. Aggressive. Potentially hot (erotic writer positions open?). I've been told I'm being severely 'hot' and super aggressive. I believe it's PMS and cold (not the 'hot' bit, but definitely the aggression). However, 'hot' requires explanation and I believe it's hyper -ness that everyone's taking up as 'hot'. Fuckers. What do they know about hyper anyway? I've been nicotine free, minus any drag, cigarette- any trace of it on me for 365 days and you have to give this to me. It's a real big deal to pull this off if you're in my shoes- I have been quite broke and have no real day job to keep me busy. I hit the books and tap my laptop and that's that. Bound to bring you cravings at unbelievable hours but again, whatever. It was easy, just say no and don't look in the direction when someone offers you a smoke. Claim it's not your brand, not your lighter brand or feign hatred for the person you're in the company of. First year is doable, it's always the next one which is harder. There's always someone who makes you want to choke to death and I'm afraid we're hitting the 'new' year in about a fortnight. Meanwhile, I'm planning to chuck alcohol as well, so I'm still more concerned about smoking than drinking. Alcohol's far easier in comparison. You can always hold on to a glass of water, and be happy. There's really no replacement for that momentary satisfaction you suck when you smoke yourself knowing it's harming you in ways your genes will pay and your grandkids, if any, will inherit those harmful genes.

Yes, I'm fucking hyper, sick and even aggressive. I don't see making sense but neither does this cold I've. Who catches cold with three whiskeys on the rocks? I blame my genes more than immunity for all this. Are genes and immunity interconnected? Don't know, certainly not looking up. Okay, I should feign interest and leave a nice post. I feel like I'm going to die of common cold- and it'd be a real shame if I did so. Like, what would people talk? "She died after suffering from common cold." Not even special cold or some ridiculously weird named cough problem (I believe it's whooping, fuckers, what a funny name for cough). Common fucking cold. I'd kill myself if I had to face the embarrassment of dying of common cold. Yeah, I'd kill my ghost or commit suicide as a fucking ghoul, if there's a chance of me returning as one, after having died of common cold. Why does no one ever use the term 'killing my ghoul' like a real solid example of disgust? It's a great expression. We should make 'killing my ghoul' a real expression in everyday conversation, for example, "I ate so much, I killed myself and my ghoul."

I'm bringing 2009 back with Lady Gaga. Listening to Poker Face and really thinking what's with me and gay men. The only kind of men who do things to me are gay men and goddamn, I love them; but I think I need to break this pattern. I also believe what I've written sounds extremely wrong and I'm making no attempt to fix it. Well, fuck that. Common cold is taking my life. Who cares about what people think. Anyway, stating that the guys are gay, I'm straight and single (apparently, we call ourselves heteronormative single or some such, because 2015-'16 demands politically correct). I really miss 2009. It was such a fun year, I was young, good skin, straight out of one institute to the other, I'd met some fantastic people and the Christmas party that year was a boozy affair. It was a really, really good year. You know? Where you don't know too many people and you meet your core, A-circle and you realize how happy things can make you, things like chocolate cake slice from Café and Bhelpuri outside college building. You don't need complicated stuff like new friends, internship friends, their friends, Masters friends, men, more men, new men, men you've danced with in different cities, men you've danced with when you're sober- goddamn I'm sounding like a player when in reality I can't even play Monopoly well, fuck playing myself or guys or whatever. I really just want someone to invent a cure for common cold cause this shit sucks dead monkey balls and I can't deal with this.

Also, realized I met Lady Gaga four years ago, sometime around today and it seems like yesterday cause I still wear that outfit that I was wearing when I went to see her, and it's not even great or anything. Only that boyfriend blazer is the shite, but the rest of it is like mediocre best. I wish I could see her now. I'd totally get my Harajuku game on, back then I was earl-grey hating on winter and trying to keep it Chinese chic meets Polish bold. I should stop. 

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