"Fuck you, I'm on vacation."
Chapter IX: Turmoil/Interlude of Sanity
Getting blown off is hard work. Knowing you're an awesome person and then getting blown off is even harder. At this point in my dating life, the part I refer to as Turmoil, is where I start to re-evaluate things with an increasingly shit-picking attitude. During this time came Beautifulgirl, Gothgirl and Fakebeautifulgirl otherwise known as Artgirl. To some degree Annoyinggirl(Stupid Bitch) and Shorthairedredhead fit in here too. This is also the time of the Great Vacation and the Revelation. But this must all be confusing. Let me really begin.
As I said, it was hard work coming back for more after being torn to pieces every other month or so. Repeated failures hit me in the face like the fists of an angry prizefighter/rapist. I was getting trussed up good. Beautifulgirl was an object of affection for all in my group of friends. She was just... good. The way she'd say ‘mmhmm' made us all cream our jeans. She was so innocent and pretty and wonderful. And attached. To jail scum. Ahh, lovely. So, I simply admired from afar, but with a little more zeal than the others did. And in school, there was Gothgirl, in her black and black and crimson, with her white face and black hair, the cutest little nose and coldest, bluest eyes. I also said little to this female. And also was Artgirl. A girl in my art class who looked like she was trying to look like Beautifulgirl. Beautifulgirl went to a different school, so that was very strange. And Artgirl had an eyebrow ring, and that was nice. I painted her once, and it was actually a pretty good picture, except for the fact that the particular project I used her for was meant to be posted on the walls. So my rendering of her went up, but thankfully nothing happened. And I also said nothing to her.
I started thinking about why I didn't bother to open my mouth. Sure, I had nothing to say, really, but that had never stopped me before. Then the Great Revelation came to me one day. And the Revelation was awesome in it's power, glory and simplicity. The Revelation said, why do I have to be the one to talk to them? Why must I, who constantly gets hosed, why must I have to say anything? Why must I provoke interest? Why must I make first contact? But that was only the first part of the Revelation. The second part included something else, about safety. It spoke to me that if you could focus thoughts and feelings on someone who was involved, unknown or far away, then you did not particularly suffer. You don't get jerked around, because you don't have the ‘couple contact'. You don't worry about what they think of you, when they're going to cheat on you, what to give them for an anniversary... but you still get to release all that emotion that you've been waiting to give to someone. And it made perfect sense. No pain, but gain nonetheless, as long as you can keep a rational mind and remember that they DO NOT care about you. But you push that aside and it doesn't matter. And the Revelation was wonderful. It was worth diamonds and rubies, sapphires and gold.
Not too long after that came the Great Vacation. The year before my family had left the house for two weeks on a trip to Nova Scotia. They weren't about to repeat it. That time was a wonderful time, and I wanted a re-creation. So I went on vacation. It went right along with the Revelation. I decided that I would go on vacation from myself, and just be an arrogant obnoxious slob that listened to exactly no one at all. I'd skip class if I wanted, drink, and say whatever I pleased. And if someone reacted, all they'd hear is "Yeah? Well, I'm on vacation." The vacation was wonderful, I must say. I arose from it refreshed, with the power to ignore girls, their good traits and their bad. I brought about a new time in my life, and created a new, empowered me. Yeehaa. I was ready once again to laugh in the face of those who would oppose me, and they would die under my boot heel. A cheer rose up in my chest constantly, and that cheer resounded through the halls of the schools, homes and workplaces I attended to. That cheer, was Die, Breasted Menace, Die.
Chapter X: Workgirl, the vacation ends.
This page hosted by 
Get your own Free Home Page