Writhing Mass

How do beautiful days peppered with too much sun turn into crap?

a. An ex calls and decides to be his usual obnoxious self, ridiculing everything you have to say in a totally insidious Darth Maul fashion. And putting up barriers through the whole conversation for you so it essentially turns into a very intelligent battle of thoughts, that sounds very good as you read this, but in true fact, it's positively wearing on the soul.

b. A friend decides to be a total bitch from hell when his demands aren't met.

c. You sitting there, wondering where the hell you went wrong.

In the past 9 months, the struggle has not only been for an identity, but to stop yourself from just completely breaking down into a pulpy mass of emotion. The bad blind dates, where certain men think it fine to grope you until you quietly but surely dig your talons into their crotch to tell them you said, "NO and FUCK OFF."

The bad relationships, where the three ex's still seem to possess a part of your soul you wish you could reclaim instantly without having to grovel and groan for it. Call it weakness, but call it what it really is, the insufferable genius of people who have the upper hand in knowing that you love them too much to ask them to leave forever, because we all know there is no such thing as a positively, absolute platonic EX-ly relationship that is amicable.

On that note, I think every should get cherry lube, fruits in cans and settle down for some orgy love. After all, make love, not war, yes?


I'm here to tell you baby, I know how to rock your world.