"Did it hurt?" My best friend, Mike, once asked me - half joking/half serious.
"Did what hurt?" I replied.
"When you punched your way up from Hell."
Well...damn. Not what I was expecting, but accurate nonetheless. A compliment? Maybe. Either way, I'll never forget it. Not to sound conceited at all, because if you knew me, you'd know I'm the farthest thing from it, but I've been told I'm the perfect girl, a solid '10,' the total package, a rarity, etc. No offense to the gentlemen who've said it, but it's all garbage. I am just some weird 22 year old girl with some raw real-world experience and a very labyrinthian mind. I don't, and never will, understand why people would say that to me. To boost my self-esteem? I don't need it. To make me swoon? Not gonna work. Because they truly think so? Impossible. I drink too much, spend entirely too much time sleeping due to hypersomnia, am addicted to the interwebz, love my cats more than I will ever love another person, reject most forms of affection, am always working, and refuse to grow up. To describe myself in written word would be a long, upsetting, confusing story. And most likely boring for you. On one hand, I have my life almost completely together kinda. I have a solid job, my own apartment, my own car, I pay my bills, I can actually cook, I work out, I have an active social life, blah blah blah. On the other hand (the hand covered in metaphorical filth that I like to keep hidden by the glove of illusion), I feel incapable of meeting someone I actually have feelings for anymore, I can't wrap my own thoughts around my own thoughts, I get sad about being alone, and therefore wonder "WHY exactly am alone?", I'm frivolous about my money, I don't have a solid plan for my future, I can never meet my own expectations which I then project into thinking I can't meet anyone elses' expectations EITHER, and so many more issues that contradict my faux title of being 'the perfect girl.' Bottom line, my mind is both my best friend and my biggest enemy, and if you haven't been scared off by my vulgar display of being slightly bonkers yet, don't worry - it'll happen soon.
None of that really matters, though.
All I am concerned with in life is to be happy. And most of all, my life revolves around love. Feeling it, wanting it, projecting it, thinking about it. With myself, those close to me, the world, and the one guy I want to love unconditionally with everything I have to offer, as much or as little as that may be. It's happened before, and it will happen again. I'm not worried about it. But it would be nice to have, right? Everybody wants somebody. Now if you're thinking I am some lonely, insane chick desperate to find a boyfriend, you would be wrong, my friend. Love comes in many forms, and I feel those forms constantly. When September 11th happened, I felt love for all those who were grieving. I feel love for my roommate when she makes blueberry pancakes. I feel love for myself when I follow through with something. When my cat sits in my window and meows at me when I'm walking to my front door, I feel love for him. Love is the tits. It's radiating, consuming, and warm. WARM LITTLE FUCKING FUZZIES.
On the opposite spectrum, I also feel a whole lotta hate. A LOT. I hate everything. Sometimes, I like something so much that it makes me mad, and I therefore hate it. I don't make any sense. But anywho, we won't get into this hate stuff too much. We don't need any of those bad vibes on this page, man.
Most of what I say is a joke, or is said in jest. Anyone who takes me seriously doesn't know me at all. I can be serious when the occasion calls for it, but life is short and anyone who takes things too seriously needs a good slap in the face. ENJOY life! It's not that bad! But anyways, I'm pretty offensive usually, and very sarcastic. All of my movie quotes and references to dumb shit on the internet are just scapegoats to distract you from the fact that I'm not actually interesting. I just say interesting things. BOOM.
I also really enjoy writing. If you read all of this, please give yourself some sort of gold star or prize. You deserve it. If you actually are still interested in me, please feel free to send me a message. I don't reply to people who live far away from me. It's pointless, really. And if all you say is 'hey what's up?' or some other tired, boring initiation, don't even bother. If you can't think of anything interesting to say, then YOU'RE probably not interesting either.