You’ve Fucked Me Up, Maybe For Life, And It’s Why I’m So Mad At You
You are everywhere. You still are.
You are everywhere. You still are.
She was named Artist of the Year in 2013. Now she rides around in her limousine.
The minute you begin to try to understand them, see something better in them or want something deeper from them is the minute you have failed your mission.
Sometimes I walk around purposefully squinting, raising my eyebrows, biting my lips or making other ridiculous and often tiring faces just to avoid the inevitable scowl that will return if I was to simply relax my muscles ever so slightly.
Most of the time, he makes my life unbearable. He makes me miserable, but tells me that that misery somehow makes me special, makes me better. He points out the worst in me and convinces me there is nothing good there.
I’m so tired, I feel like I’ve been at a party and it’s gone on for too long and I’m drunk and all I want to do is go home.
Think about it: if women try to be like men and spend their lives trying to prove that they can do everything that men do, aren’t they just boosting men’s egos and thus giving them more power?
It’s happened, it can’t unhappen, you have failed. You tried to put the finishing touches on something with no foundation and now, without perfection, you are bruised after the avalanche.
Coffee lost its magic.
1. You read the newspaper with a highlighter in one hand.