It's my own fault
Oh Jesus Christ, what have I
done with Colleen, and who decided the crazy woman should come out? I might as well be candid with my drunken acts of self-violence -- I was diluting the experiences with ambiguous words and phrases, partial cliche, partial made-up nonsense, in order to spare a certain ex's feelings. But now that he's aware of the debauchery, I'll just let 'er rip!
There is a formula at work here - one that is bigger than me, yet smaller than this city. If I don't have a boyfriend, I lose control of all areas of my life - love, friends, school, work, alcohol, money, etc. And I'm a Feminist. How does this actually work together? Let me answer that for you - it doesn't. It doesn't, it doesn't, it doesn't. Which is why this inner turmoil usually results in my single insanity. I have ideals and standards and... the drugs are quick.
But kissing two men in one night is best reserved for those still in high school - ex-cheerleaders that ride around in the back of pickup trucks, want to call their other more-experimental friends after they kiss the third and boast that they "pulled a hat trick." It is no longer acceptable to go trolling around bars, cleaning the floors wth my frantic shuffling, being pulled off into dark corners, getting a walk and being lucky I actually make it home.
My life is out of control. My life is in control. Who's in control of those in control? I'm a sitting duck.
2005-04-15 | 1:20 p.m.
