long hair.
a manicure.
to do laundry.
or shop.
ineedtoo@gmail.com
because there hasn’t been any boy drama. There hasn’t been a boy. There are no boys. There is nothing.
I’m not single because I love being single, I’m single because the person I am absolutely, totally and completely mind numbingly retardedly in love with has no desire to love me back.
Blah blah whatever—I’ll deal, I’ll fuck other people and shout to the world that I am fine, sistah.
But I listen to music/watch television/get high/drink/sleep/sleep/get high so I can fall asleep all because I’d rather be comatose than alone.
Just so you know—when I give you my whole I don’t believe in relationships/I’m not into bullshit societal norms what I’m actually saying is if I can’t be with him/goddamnit you at least won’t know I hate it/nobody cuddles quite like my pride.
Now I believe it is time for me to turn on some Kevin Devine while I wallow.
amen.
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