No, I Don't Have A Gun, But If I Did, I Wouldn't Waste A Bullet On You

The wretched space between finding a saviour and then working out where you stand as 'friends'. It's all so cumbersome and artificial. Why bother keeping up such pretences after what we had. I hate that you meant so much to me. I have to cleave that part of me and refuse to acknowledge it and just cauterize it with denial of your existence.

It's such an antagonistic relationship. I wonder why you retreat into yourself and blame everything on me. You expected things to change, so they have changed, irreparably. That closeness will never exist again and I shall close myself off. Never again.

Yes I have been ignoring you. I don't see what there is to talk about. I don't talk about the things we talked about with other people. So if we're not that close, why bother? Skip the pleasantries and the facades.

All I need is to get over my hate and regret. Just to gentle apathy with you. That's what I'm looking forward to now.


You'll notice the recent weirdness of my posts. I'll keep my reasons for myself.

I'm sure in some previous post I've mentioned my absolute love of catching women checking out other women. It's never a positive thing. They look with such hate and scorn, I actually really get a kick out of seeing a woman's regular face just turn upside down and just absolutely hate on another woman because she is more attractive, or more scantily dressed. It happens quite often if you stop and observe. In fact, I'd say it's more prevalent than guys checking out girls. Weird don't you think? Ahh le sexual politique, how I love these games we play.

I'm aiming to push myself this year. Let's see where we end up.

Joaquin out.