02 March 2010

Soul-Crushing Breakup #617



Wounds taste salty. So I'm working very hard to stop licking them.

The idea of dating makes me sick, physically sick. But I'll do it anyway because my sorrow, MY GREAT, GRAND, NEVER-ENDING, MOTHERFUCKING MELANCHOLIC SORROW is dull. Crying is dull. I would like love without pain please. And also a giant lion robot that shoots lasers out his eyes. And an elephant.

Until then I chain smoke, write charming emails, Google the living crap out of hapless internet boyfriends-to-be and watch the sky outside my bedroom window change from morning to noon to dusk to night.

1 comment:

  1. Dating is most certainly the last suggestion given to God by Satan before being cast into the burning pits of hell. That and ticks. Fucker.

    Hey, thought you had abandoned your quest for a pet elephant. What gives?

    i wish you better luck finding your man on the electronic ether than i've had finding my woman. After three failed attempts i've simply surrendered. Madness lay at the end of that road and i've just no more taste for it.

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