This is a dipiction of my life. make the girl 90% less attractive and it’s me when I flirt with attractive boys.the scream and horror is usually followed up with an omission of disgust and a puff of smoke as the run away and leave me to sulk.
This also applies to most people. to be fair I’m suprised any of them have lasted even a year and I’ve found myself in a conundrum today. I still feel terrible from when I got home on Monday evening. before the seemingly endless drama that I don’t want to be a part of. I want to talk but don’t particularly want to talk to anyone I know. not as a specific instinct. Like how when you were yongue and you knew there was someone who wouldnt be busy and you’d just be able to talk about weird stuff and forget how crap you felt, all without the risk that that person would bring up anything else that would press the pillow harder against your face attempting to suffocate you.
They’re all busy I’m sure. And if not.. I guess I’m not willing to risk the unacceptable topics at the moment. I don’t want to hear about how much a job at the local shop makes you want to murder everyone or cry. I don’t want to hear about that friend we used to have and what they’ve done so wrong now. I don’t want to know that you’ve been arguing with your shit head boyfriend you keep saying you’ll dump next week because you can’t take anymore… but it’s more than that. I don’t want to hear about the good stuff either. It’s all just a great reminder of the screaming man above.