And what’s preventing him from it
He wants to own the girl. He wants to get closer to her, understand her. He wants her to want him just as much as he wants her. He wants her to love him back. He wants to feel the utter transcendence he felt the first time he was with her. He tries to get closer, but she’s ruining his life.
She doesn’t exist. She’s standoffish. She’s cold. She refuses to love him. She can give him pleasure but she refuses to be exclusively his. She says what he wants to hear the first time, but never again. She’s heroin. And with heroin, the first time is always the best time, and no matter how many more times you do it and how much more you do, it will never be the same. You can still get a really good high, but it will never compare to the first time.
When he tries to stop, he’s miserable. There’s withdrawal. When other people get in the way, he becomes massively angry and removes them from the picture. He’s devoting his entire life to this girl/the drug, and yet achieving the feeling he’s seeking will never happen. He recognizes that he is suffering, but he has the mentality that “Maybe it will happen next time” and he keeps trying. “Maybe if I do this, she will love me.” “Maybe if I let this happen, she will love me.” “Maybe this time…”
(Her loving him back becomes the high)
She’s the impossible ideal of a woman to him and she is unconquerable. Uncatchable.
Note to self: poem about making breakfast
Good to know that I’m not the only one who hates this Loryna crap (it is a generic for Yaz, my birth control pill). A lot of other women have been experiencing blood clots, terrible acne, spotting, cramping, mood changes, and loss of sex drive. So while it is true that Loryna is 99% effective against pregnancy, it’s probably because even the once in a blue moon you’re horny enough to have sex, you’re too acne-ridden and bitchy to get any. Was this shit invented by abstinence-only people or what?
I love animals. They are, quite simply, nice and drama-free. The other day I brought Bun-Bun over to my sister’s house. I had him wrapped up in a towel while I was introducing him to the cat, Deej. Dijon, really, but Deej for short. He sniffed at Bun-Bun. Right in the face. And got bored and walked away. Later, I let Bun-Bun run around in the backyard and Deej came around back to visit. At first he didn’t notice Bun-Bun, but when he did, he got the look in his eye and went after her. I think it’s a her. I had to run and swat at him and pick up Bun-Bun so she wouldn’t get eaten. And for about an hour or so, Deej sulked in a corner and glared at me and refused to come when I called. Eventually he gave up on that though and came back for some belly rubs.
If only people were like that, where they would brood for an hour and then come back and forgive you for some belly rubs.
Idea for comic: Today Bun-Bun was threatening suicide over the edge of her box. She lost interest when she noticed some hay and proceeded to burrow in it. I wonder if that would work on emo kids. Edit: turns out the reason she started burrowing in the hay was because there was some lettuce buried underneath.
Mike and Cherlyn went out that night to accomplish one thing: get their drink on. They had a six pack of beers and a bottle of vodka. And of course one of the things they liked to do while drinking was bitch about the other people in their lives. In particular, they decided to talk about some new guy in her life that she liked to refer to as “her pussy.” Simply because he was a pussy. As the night progressed and more alcohol was consumed, Mike decided he was going to repeat “Who does he think he is?” in response to this new guy not wanting to sleep with her, despite her attractiveness. She didn’t mind, personally, because it made things…interesting. But she also thought it was funny. Her pussy had also decided to get mad at her every time she drank, without her having any idea why. They had pretty much concluded their bitching session at about 2 AM, when Mike decided he would drive after consuming a third of the bottle of vodka. He proceeded to make a right turn into a brick wall. Cherlyn got out to inspect the damage, to which Mike responded by freaking out because he for some reason thought he had hit her, not a brick wall. She then insisted that she drive, since she had only had 2 beers and that was well over an hour ago. There wasn’t too much damage to the outside of the vehicle. Somehow the lever for the wipers had become disconnected from the steering column and was dangling down, keeping the wipers going. Somehow in that awkward state, she drove him home. However, he in his drunken state refused to go inside his house and insisted on walking her home, despite the fact that he was literally falling down drunk. She kept yelling at him to go home, but he refused. Every so often he would decide to just lie down in the street, but then insist on walking her home again when she would try to stand him up. She was tempted to just leave him there a few times, but they were near a busy street that the po-po frequented every night. She jabbed him a couple times in the stomach in an effort to make him just go home. It didn’t work. She even had to choke him out in a rear-naked once to get him to stop following.
I think I’m going to devote some time to some new activities, including: -Volunteering at the animal shelter. I met a dude who socializes the cats. And sometimes they go on hikes with some of the dogs. And that is some kind of awesome. -Learning useful phrases in several different languages. Though I’m not sure if other people would see a German pastry recipe in which I’m adamant about not putting eggs or anything learned from the YouTube woman who teaches dirty sign language as useful. -I want a dog. If I were able to get that husky I was eyeing, I would be walking that mofo everywhere. And quite possibly name it Mofo. Note to self: huskyhavenofla.org