gunslingersgoingmobile.

I’m 14!!

gunslingersgoingmobile — Thu, 13 Mar 2008 16:46:39 +0000

Oh yes, I am 14! I got hung up on and now I’m being ignored. One instant message of a cordial heads up didn’t get far… however I’m positive that there is a perfectly sensible, one-sided, and ambiguous reason behind it. But more importantly: I’d like to apologize, Diary. It’s been a few weeks since we last spoke. Things have been busy. Please don’t get all clingy and develop some obsessive attachment disorder because of my 3 week sabbatical. Things will come and go but I will always come back to you. Like a Boomerang of Love.

I’m inaudible…

gunslingersgoingmobile — Thu, 21 Feb 2008 04:34:40 +0000

You think being invisible is a problem? *BAH* I’d give my left leg, replete with inner thigh scars from secret cutting to be invisible. I’M INAUDIBLE. Of course, you won’t hear me say that, because no one ever listens to what I say. *UGH* People. Sometimes you notice me noticing them noticing what a bad person I am, and you’d be right: they notice it and I notice them noticing it and you notice me noticing them notice it. But you don’t hear me. I’m inaudible.

i’m invisible.

gunslingersgoingmobile — Wed, 20 Feb 2008 22:49:00 +0000

i’m so invisible that “i” isn’t even a proper noun. Lower case as in not stylistic, not brand-centrism, just… a.. noun… *Le Sigh*. Or as the Chinese would say, “Shì Sigh”.

i think i’ll go sit on my hands now.

No one should be crying here…

gunslingersgoingmobile — Tue, 19 Feb 2008 03:27:00 +0000

Except for ME. I am the only person who gets to cry, because I have problems that no one can understand. There isn’t a chance you’d understand them diary, or diary’s other author. Not one chance. If you tried, you would almost definitely come to the conclusion that it isn’t worth your time to try. You’d probably just delegate the delegation of the understanding, to the point where responsibility for figuring out why I cry rests on no one’s shoulders, leading to a run on sentence and a situation where no one is actually trying to figure it out, which makes sense, since everyone hates me.

Sometimes I cry.

gunslingersgoingmobile — Sun, 17 Feb 2008 00:29:16 +0000

I cry on the inside. If you can’t make that conversational leap then maybe we should leap out the window. A good 16 floors up would either finally bring out the superpowers I have or not. If not, then at least I wouldn’t have to deal with this Cruel World or the fact that I am just a pet, being bought and sold. Like meat. That hurts.

It also hurts that I have played 3 words and it’s been your turn for nearly 2.56 hours now. Is it because you hate me? You don’t even want to play a board game? You’re probably out talking to someone else about how much you hate me. And you’re just humoring me by playing and adding me as a friend.

I gently weep while I watch Cartoon Network. I now know how those orphans in Rwanda feel. I bet you have genocide in that business plan of yours.

First time I’ve heard of it…

gunslingersgoingmobile — Sat, 16 Feb 2008 21:36:54 +0000

You may have been meaning to write that for like a whole half a day, but this is the first I’ve heard of it. Sure, you may have said something to me about it the last time we talked, or maybe we’ve even talked about it several times, but I don’t remember that. If I did remember, I might understand that this most recent conversation is some kind of extension of that conversation, if I were willing to make the leap. But I don’t and I’m not. If someone else tells me something you told me and which I then forgot, I will say I heard it second-hand.

I hate hearing things second hand.

I hate hearing things for the first time. I hate hating hearing things.

I’ve been meaning to write about this for a while.

gunslingersgoingmobile — Sat, 16 Feb 2008 18:26:15 +0000

A while as in .5 days. Which, if you think about it, is certainly a long time for me. All right I admit I take the easy way out by hate, hate, hating. But if hating is wrong; then I don’t want to be right. That’s the truth. Now you probably hate me for saying that. I’m sorry, Diary. You know the kind of relationship we have going on here. I will tell you things and then hate you behind your back. Then lament in a public way for the whole world to read. Yes. That is my plan of action. I do things differently over here.

On another note, my boss totally sucks. Like, “Oh man, you’re good at what you do” really means, “Oh man, you are a piece of cat vomit and I wouldn’t rehire you if the choice was between you, a can of green beans, and a run-on sentence”.

You know what else really gets me? The way my cat looks at me. I’m pretty sure he’s thinking about how much he wants to eat my face.

I hate when you’re here. And now you’re gone, and I hate when you’re gone.

gunslingersgoingmobile — Sat, 16 Feb 2008 00:08:20 +0000

You bore me because it’s always about you and what you don’t realize is that it’s always about ME. And so when you’re here, I hate it, because I remember that you hate me because I have to look at you. And then you go, and I realize that you’re like, my only friend, even if you hate me, and then I’m like alone with my thoughts and I hate thinking. And I hate being alone. I hope you realize that you left work at like 5:30pm which is part-time. And I will hate the weekend and when I get back here next week I will hate seeing you.

NO. ME!

gunslingersgoingmobile — Fri, 15 Feb 2008 22:31:04 +0000

I called you when I got out. And again when I was on my way to the office. And then again between meetings. And then one more time ten minutes later.

Either it was with my CrackBerry. Or I thought about calling.

One or the other. Maybe.

Oh. And another thing…

gunslingersgoingmobile — Fri, 15 Feb 2008 22:20:48 +0000

I sat for a long time coming up with pros and cons of hate. Unfortunately, I hate everything. Here is my list:

I hate people that take the elevator from the second floor to the first floor.
I hate when people are all fuckems this and fuckems that.
I hate when I’m at work, trying to take a nap and someone is like, “I need you to finish this”.
I hate cold french fries. And leftovers.
I hate when people say, “I like all types of music”. You know that’s bullshit.
I hate when no one sees that I can work for a whole three hours straight.
I hate that I’m not appreciated for number 6.
I hate my friends.
I hate that I hate my friends.
I hate that my friends hate me because they’re sick of liking me so maybe I hate me too.
I hate the sun.
And the moon.