Self-destruction part I

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Step one : pick the one guy who won’t have you
Step two: wait
Step three: forever

Alternative

Step three/plan B: switch to girls and pretend you’re in a homosexual phase anyway.

 Step three/plan C: apologize for something you didn’t do… for that you have to have a heart, and offer it in a gift wrap, and be prepared to have it ripped open, torn in hard but mushy pieces that will never fit together again and will probably bleed all over the place and drown the sorrow you thought was already drowned in tears. That’s if you have a heart.

How plan B did not work:
So this girl I was in love with, like, way too long ago, sent me a horny email.

So I’m thinking: can’t have the penis, try other penises. When great penises don’t come with OK brains, spend time with friends (uh, which also happens whatever health of sex life), and also answer horny email.

Which I totally misinterpreted. Coucou, j’ai rêvé à toi hier soir was more like I’m in town and I want someone from the past to come play with my hair while we talk about the past and maybe drench the pillow with tears and other liquids of non-sexual nature. Geez, you’re already testosterone-challenged, work and make up for it. It’s not that I don’t love breasts and firm butts, because I do, but maybe mine are enough for now. I’d even choose pretty metrosexual boys over that. Seriously, the messed-up version of a female brain is not the reason I dropped in your hotel room wearing the little black dress and no bra or underwear. Girl, suicide will never be an option, stop making people consider it.

Ghosts from the past, no matter how hot they’ve gotten, and how many hours you spent masturbating to the thought of them/having sex with someone from the opposite sex to the thought of them, should stay in the past. 

I still felt this involuntary primal response that makes the heart race and palms moist. But I had to suffer the whole ‘I don’t recognize you. Why don’t we click anymore. You changed. And you’re not even attracted to me anymore’ gna gna gha gha brrr Oh did you say anything? So sorry, I was too busy waiting for you to undress. And after all that emo soup, she asked if I was in the mood. Anything but. Sex is like air; it’s not that important, unless you’re not getting any. I waited for her to freshen up, I kissed her and left. Which leaves me the option to come back later. With tape, earplugs and other goodies. Once she’s cooled down with her lesbian expectations.

      
Plan C… not happening. I do have a heart, it’s just that I like to think that my brains and vagina pump most of my poor anemic blood. Thus it leaves my heart, well, working full-time for useful organs.

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3 Responses to “Self-destruction part I”

  1. mal Says:

    oh julie, you’re such a LUG

    lesbian until graduation

  2. Julie Says:

    I graduate in 8 to 10 years.

  3. satu Says:

    hopefully by choice;)

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