(disclaimer, written on 13 Sept, published on 24 Oct)
Ariane’s workout class last Saturday killed the front of my thighs, but I’m still going to go running with Tracy now.
Okay, I’ve been running from thoughts easily and somehow it is becoming increasingly sexy to just watch Adventure Time and or listen to a song, so I’m gonna like, write this down.
Have you ever had that feeling of not wanting to start a new TV series because it’s just so daunting to begin watching something with upwards of 100 fuck you episodes?
Ping’s got some sort of BTO…?
And suddenly it’s really easy to slide down the marmalade slippery slope, with all the ideas that being still single somehow means a great deal about who I am. Or rather, who I am unable to be.
Suddenly, I feel like I should not be watching adventure time, I should not be bothering myself with writing about my feelings, I should not be…
Wait… Whose judgement am I afraid of? My own?
Who is going to shame me so badly that I am supposed to mail order a bride, “settle for someone” or kill myself before I hit 35? Society? Who?
Sankar and I declared that this year is was the Mockey (friend gang, don’t think too much about it) Year of Bad Romance, because two of them have recently broken up at this ripe old age of 25 too.
And sure, there are people I desire so badly, but I can handle a second of desire, a second of solitude, a second of self love, a second of hurt, a second without her.
That’s right! I’ll do this second by second. I can handle it, second, by second. Not too far in the future, not too far back.
Thanks for listening.
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