(i love my centerpiece so much...dead dandelions and broken petunias. seriously. i couldn't ask for a better one!)so first today i send the wrong text to the wrong person. i just dialed the wrong number and hit send....after hitting send, i had a mini heart attack and nearly busted my phone trying to cancel something that was inevitably going to end up in the wrong inbox anyway. i do believe the little red button on my phone is now an innie. i did learn that apparently 'women are really good at stabbing guys in the heart and then blaming them so they don't feel bad', and while 'spitting my venom', i was told i haven't changed since i was 15. (look, dude, i am really sorry but you didn't have to be such a spaz. seriously. it was a pretty minor thing in the big scheme of things. it wasn't like i detailed sexual positions or anything. and no, i don't keep you around to torture and humiliate you...that's why i keep that monkey locked up in my attic. you have no idea how bad i feel about it, seriously though.)
then, after all the shit settled and i started feeling a little better about my loser self, i ate lunch. it was great but at the end, for some reason, i really wanted a twix so i figured eh, why the hell not...? so, i go to the vending machine and guess what?
i pushed the wrong buttons. i ended up with a king size reeses.
i hate peanut butter. i really do. the smell, the texture, the after taste...i hate it all. but, out of spite, i ate it anyway. i ate the whole damn, king-sized, sandy-peanut butter-filled, generic chocolate disc of nastiness and i did it because, well, because it felt oddly right or something.
i pushed the wrong buttons. i ended up with a king size reeses.
i hate peanut butter. i really do. the smell, the texture, the after taste...i hate it all. but, out of spite, i ate it anyway. i ate the whole damn, king-sized, sandy-peanut butter-filled, generic chocolate disc of nastiness and i did it because, well, because it felt oddly right or something.
now, for the rest of the day, as i reek of peanut butter, i am going to try my hardest to make a list of all the ways i'm better now than i was when i was 15--just to make myself feel better. i'm sure there's one or two ways i'm better...i can drive now at least.
damn long-term relationships...they can throw that shit back at you like no one else can and mean it. i guess that when someone has to put up with your bullshit for nearly half of their life they get that right here and there. i know it's a long shot, but i would like nothing more than to smoke a bowl while re-arranging furniture and discussing the awesomeness of jabbawockeez again...i'll pack the pipe next time. (sorry anti-drug america. every now and then, an old friend and an ancient herb make for a great afternoon.)
p.s.
can't we simply be friends? could we at least try...minus the theatrics? or, is that even possible anymore? we used to be so cool, i miss it; how did shit get to this...? i'm probably delusional...i mean, i am talking to myself here, but i really want to just hit rewind...impossible as that may be. could we at least throw some of that passion into our art or something...vent that way maybe...do something positive together? you write, i'll proof, you can film, i can snap and together we can sit back and watch...
-iris
i know i sound insane. this day hasn't been at all brilliant in the least...
p.s.
can't we simply be friends? could we at least try...minus the theatrics? or, is that even possible anymore? we used to be so cool, i miss it; how did shit get to this...? i'm probably delusional...i mean, i am talking to myself here, but i really want to just hit rewind...impossible as that may be. could we at least throw some of that passion into our art or something...vent that way maybe...do something positive together? you write, i'll proof, you can film, i can snap and together we can sit back and watch...
-iris
i know i sound insane. this day hasn't been at all brilliant in the least...
