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Am I nervous? No. But you probably should be.
I'm not politically correct.
I'm bitchy, mean, opinionated and stupid.
Still reading? Be it on your own head.


I used to stupidly believe that not thinking about you would be easy. That I would miss you just as much as I miss all our other friends. But today it's even harder than 11 years ago.



I used to stupidly believe that not thinking about you would be easy. That I would miss you just as much as I miss all our other friends. But today it's even harder than 11 years ago.



Alcohol is bad for you. Obvious, right? And yet, people keep doing it. Because it dulls and dumbs down.
Why else would a guy with an IQ of about 150 proposition a girl way below him intellectually? He's drunk, of course. See? A guy like that wouldn't get laid in a million years if he didn't dumb down his frontal cortex.
Sad, really.


Fanfic cancellation

I'm not applying. Nothing comes together, just some pathetic odds and ends, and I really have no time to hone. And I haven't even started looking for a beta. Bad timing, I guess, I'll stick to reviewing for a while. Maybe in another four years I'll ask riftintime for a bunny. Maybe he'll be my beta in next life. I suppose I should take down all the sketches and studies on all my blogs. Or maybe not, I doubt anyone will want to knick anything.

Чучка не писатель, а все-таки читатель.


TV shows

Every time leukemia pops up I think about 1996. About I. How he was fighting after graduation. And then he wasn't. How we were never even close. Hardly said two words to each other in three years of high school, and how the news hit me like a wall of bricks. How I couldn't look at anyone from his group in school. How I had a meltdown in the restroom. And how none of it matters because he will always stay dead.


We are built for longing (C) Murder Ballad

He'll leave and go back to her. And you're gonna be alone. And I can't see you hurting. But you're hurting anyway.



Forty-seven today. Yanka, Lena Filaretova, and Katka kinda make up a single cluster in my mind. I think of one, the other two pop up. And I never even met Yanka. Only records. Lena touched so many people, I hardly knew her but she was so open-hearted, generous, kind, and so brilliant, the briefest of contacts was bound to leave a deep lasting impression. And Katka... Well she was special. Whatever unspoken rivalry may have been there, I never meant to cause her any pain but I did and for that I'll always be sorry. But I always admired her talent and her music. Besides, she was such an angel, there was no choice but fall in love with her.


Glee 421

They say if two people truly love each other, things inevitably work out. Probably like H. and J. Both got dumped, but the way I see it, getting dumped was the best thing ever happened to the both of them because they could be together.
And I hope me dumping him who shall remain unnamed was a good thing because it brought them right into their significant other's arms. Oh, that's so slushy romantic I'm nearly making myself nauseous.

So I guess that's what didn't work out. The two of us didn't truly love each other. They were just lying through their teeth, and I was deluding myself into buying it. Best deal ever. You get the whole girlfriend experience without any underlying feelings. Sort of like in Surrogates with Bruce Willis.

Yeah, tonight's bootie call dissolved into nothingness. I don't know if I'm disappointed or releaved. I should have probably told them I'm leaving soon for three months. Nah, I don't want anything to influence their regular day-to-day choices. I'm done pressuring, manipulating, setting traps, chasing after or ensnaring men into any sort of relationship with me. If they don't want it, I'll just enjoy the spare time. Spend it on posting bitter pointless entries in my dozen blogs. Ironically, it's not the worst thing I can do with my time.


I like

I like to keep things clearcut and simple. Bam. Wham. Over. Done with.
But this is nice, too. Lingering on the edge, dangling over the precipice knowing that even a meteor could not push me over. So I'm just grateful that he doesn't act like he senses my willingness. I'm grateful he acts oblivious to the fact that the sound of his voice reverberates up and down my spine to the point where I can hardly understand what exactly he is saying, just revelling in the vibration. And when our toes touch I awkwardly move my foot away millimeter by millimeter. And when he playfully pats the back of my head in a bigbrotherly way, I relax into the touch and close my eyes and just hope he doesn't notice how my breath catches.

It's daunting but at the same time it's safe. There are moments when my brain wants to scream, "Just cut the crap and take what's on offer! To hell with this rigamarole! Do it!" - but it passes pretty quickly, because suppose he did, then what? There is no revelation, no magical world beyond this looking glass, it breaks and all you get will be just sharp shards.



Have just skyped Sergey. Met his three-month-old son. The elder one is six now. He sees Oleg about once a couple months. Why is it that I always ask about the boys first and have to buildup courage to ask about A.? This is stupid. Why does my heart halt every time I ask about him? Why does it sting when Sergey talks about A's wife? AP had a relapse on Women's day. Didn't show up for work after the long weekend, reportedly. Why does it make me wanna cry? What is this residue? I guess I just miss him is all. I guess I'm still jealous of whoever he talks to, or performs for, or you know, generally graces with his presence. I want to be that person again. I want to be there. Sometimes it gets so bad I even start to believe I'd even be willing to deal with his addiction. I am so going to hell for this. But he is worth it. He is that good.



My gay friends seem a bit baffled that I'm ok with the whole going to hell idea. They seem uncomfortable with the fact that I'm going to hell and not raising a stink about it.
What I don't get is why should I not be ok with it? Because they don't like it? Well, they're free to go on any crusade they please, I'm staying put.

For starters, I don't exactly believe in God, so why should I argue with those who do? I mean, they have faith and I don't, so they should know better, right?
Then assuming I accept the idea of afterlife as stipulated by the Bible, the scriptures are very unambiguous. I shall not inherit the kingdom of God. I know that the Bible allows for different interpretations regarding LGBT, race, women's inequality etc, but it is very clear about me. I shall go to hell after I die. So why should I not be ok with it? I know what I am, I know what the Bible says about my kind.
If some believers want to send me to hell after I die, if they are so hungry for power that they want to take that sort of authority from God, if it makes them happy to throw people in hell, who am I to deny them? God certainly doesn't need me to stand up for his exclusive rights to rule people's fates. I certainly won't be any worse if people have dreams of sending me to hell, why should I not go?

To sum up, I'm ok with the idea of going to hell. If people get upset about it, it's not really my problem. As long as they can tell the difference between this life and afterlife, we can all get along just fine.

@темы: equality



I think I just told an unattached eligible and, most importantly, willing guy that I was only interested in him professionally and sent him off with a 26-year-old. And not just any guy, but the guy who I had a humongous crush on back in 2005. And almost eight years later fate brings him back to my apartment and I pack him in his coat and kick him out? WTF is wrong with me?


Ah well

She's happy and she's in another country. Means it's gonna be so much more difficult to make time for each other whenever she visits.



There's this wierd unpleasant tug behind the breastbone that makes you wanna reach for the phone and find *the* contact and just push the call key. But you don't. Because that's all there is to it, just a tug. Have a cookie and move on.




С 2004 года им выносят решения, что это не конституционно. Бараны...



Another abbreviation

The guy I thought I was in love with
Please don't tell me there is no such code in contemporary sms-English with its proclivity for alphabet soup.



Знакомый однажды спросил, почему я делаю записи на английском. "Ты что, думаешь, что ты так спрячешься, что ли, что тут никто по-английски не понимает?" - нет, не так, конечно, но в таком же смысле.
А ведь если подумать логически, то как это я прячусь, выкладывая записи в открытом доступе? И как это я прячусь за английским, если по-английски читают примерно 90% моих подписчиком, а по-русски порядка 50%.


@темы: equality