as i stared at the pattern of the couch i began to think the weirdest things...
who thought of this pattern? the stitching is so unbelievably precise - how was this pattern made? what kind of machine does such magical work?
which got me thinking...how does anything work? i have no idea. look at the cell phone, we all use them, but how in the world do they work? how do our voices get zoomed up to the satellites in outer space and find their way back down, sans cord, to someone else's phone in mere nanoseconds?
beats me.
in reality i was only trying to escape what really was on my mind...
the super cute ones are always the worst ones. and i have a lengthy history to prove it.
i kept placing myself on that horrid, horrid show the bachelor. i wasn't the bachelor...i'll never be the bachelor. i'm was a contestant, of course. i'd make believe that i had victored my way down to the final two. i serve the nice guy role (obvs) and was in competition with the asshole. isn't that the way it always is?
i, of course, am not the chosen one and am completely devastated. what didn't i do, what did i say, what was the problem? nothing that a late night trip to the frozen food section of 7eleven can't temporarily fix. refrigerated peanut butter m&m's are better than sex after all.
somewhere amid the binging it hit me a) wow i'm a girl, but more importantly b) fuck all that.
i'm so much more than that. people are so much more than cute faces. i've said it a million times before: think big picture.
good things happen to good people. and good people attract other good people.
believe it, yall.
especially the part about the refrigerated m&m's.
