Saturday 12 February 2011
life's little surprises
ahh...the incredible joy of being told, at 7:07 AM this morning, that I could go back to sleep, because it's Saturday...such a relief.
The shit we do when we’re drunk. Or in love.
I know I’m not alone in saying, with all the sincerity that I can muster, that when we get drunk or fall in love, our IQ drops exponentially and we pretty much forget everything that everyone’s ever told us NOT to do.
There’s also the unfortunate case when you’re in love AND you get drunk because the feeling’s not mutual and you don’t know any better. The desperate texts, the emotional blackmail – which never works, and even though you know it doesn’t, you conveniently choose to forget (it’s hardly a matter of choice, really, but still), the stalking, the harassment. Oh God, it’s all so humiliating.
What’s even more tragic is that after a while, when we cool down, when the madness passes, most of the time we realize that it wasn’t even worth it. That deity we worshiped is just another human being, just like us, maybe worse, and after all, as the saying goes, we all shit the same. He, he. I just threw that in there for good measure, things were getting a little too weepy.
Of course, as it so happens, to add insult to injury, most of the time we choose to act like idiots in public, as some sort of self-torture because of course exhibitionism also kicks right in. So more bad shit. If you’re really lucky, nobody takes pictures.
What we’re left with, after all that torment and all that drama, is one little question: what the fuck was I thinking?
There’s also the unfortunate case when you’re in love AND you get drunk because the feeling’s not mutual and you don’t know any better. The desperate texts, the emotional blackmail – which never works, and even though you know it doesn’t, you conveniently choose to forget (it’s hardly a matter of choice, really, but still), the stalking, the harassment. Oh God, it’s all so humiliating.
What’s even more tragic is that after a while, when we cool down, when the madness passes, most of the time we realize that it wasn’t even worth it. That deity we worshiped is just another human being, just like us, maybe worse, and after all, as the saying goes, we all shit the same. He, he. I just threw that in there for good measure, things were getting a little too weepy.
Of course, as it so happens, to add insult to injury, most of the time we choose to act like idiots in public, as some sort of self-torture because of course exhibitionism also kicks right in. So more bad shit. If you’re really lucky, nobody takes pictures.
What we’re left with, after all that torment and all that drama, is one little question: what the fuck was I thinking?
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About Me
- Hormonally Yours
- A bit erratic, a bit psychotic, a little calmer than when I started this, but still not out of the woods. This is kind of a diary, in more ways than one, one being that, with the exception of maybe one person (allowed), I'm the only one reading it, at least for now. Since it is of a rather personal nature, I'm not really sure anybody else would be interested anyway. If you do drop by, accidentally, enjoy and please don't mind the hormonal banter. I was "born with it."