Listening to: Telepop Musik
 Tomorrow has to come
I turned off the cd player in the car on my way to pick up the take-out chinese food.
I don't know why. Maybe just so I could hear myself think. Which is rarely a good thing. I remember asking myself why I was turning of Our Lady Peace because I know I love them...
It's like I have an intimate relationship with myself and I wonder if I'm cheating on myself by being with Scott or if I'm cheating on Scott by having this relationship with myself.
I talk to myself as though I were married to me, my (our?) arguments... my/our discussions... Or perhaps I'm just insane.
How can you date yourself? God.
I am so stupid sometimes. What a hypocrite I am, no one likes me. I love myself even though not only am I a hypocrite, I'm stupid too! I think about having a relationship with myself?
I got frustrated at the chinese food restaurant because I was surrounded by men...the one bald guy with the ton of earrings kept checking me out. Ew. The tall fat one held the door open for me.
As I drove away I saw thousands, it seemed, of minivans. There was one that caught my eye, a large dark woman who looked rather young was driving. The man was sitting next to her, and looked much older. He was white and thinner, and for some reason they just didn't...fit. Like someone had cut them out of seperate pictures in a magazine and pasted them next to each other in this car.
I noticed for the most part, though, that fat white guys were driving while the fat white girls were sitting as a passenger. I hate it when the ugly fat old men look at me in my car. And I hate it worse when the ugly fat old women do.
I'm young with everything to lose and even more to gain. I'm pretty, or at least I think I am. I didn't want to leave the house, really, at all today. It might have been nice going somewhere with Scott, but it was too cold to do anything outside and going anywhere public just didn't appeal to me today. And then when I do go to a restaurant to pick up food that was supposed to be done by the time I got there, I couldn't help but feel all the grimy stares from old lecherous men.
Or maybe I'm just paranoid.
Paranoid and insane. Maybe I'm not even as pretty as I think I am. And because I'm such a loser, I feel like crying.
Paranoid, insane, wimpy, stupid, hypocritical. I hate myself today. But it can only get better, and tomorrow is a new day.
Maybe we should break up...
myself and I.
Become one person, not be two personalities. Why can't I just be normal?
And what if I wake up one day and realize, oh my god, I'm a fat ugly woman whom no one loves, so to speak?
Tomorrow always comes.
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