And people actually read my blog. I was running under the assumption that no one actually read it and I was just word vomiting into the Internet with no one being the wiser.
But that's not the case.
So...hi! I hope this blog isn't really really boring like I'm afraid it is. And don't be afraid to comment on my blog. In fact, please do, to let me know you're out there.
Anyway, on to what I was originally going to post about.
I have found myself at a crossroads. Well, not a crossroads, really. More like an impossible situation. See, I hate liars, but I myself am one. A liar in the sense that if someone asks me a question that hits too close to my emotions I'll hide it. Perfect example: my brother asked me if I still liked this one guy, and I said no, but he knew I was lying and I knew he knew I was lying. I didn't want to talk about it, so I lied and closed the conversation down.
So I do that from time to time, and I can't find the will to stop. BUT, and here's the bad part, I hate liars. Especially ones who say they don't want to do anything, but really mean they don't want to do anything with me. Yeah, okay dude, I get that you want to watch movies with your completely wrong for you girlfriend. You might even get some special sexy time out of it, but I don't like being brushed off. If you don't want to do anything with me, just fucking say it. Don't say you're tired or don't like watching movies often, only to turn around and spend all night watching movies. News flash: I can actually connect the dots and figure out you're a lying sack of shit. I'm smart that way. That's probably why I have a college degree and you're still technically a sophomore, even though you're my age. That and I'm dedicated to getting out of school and starting work.
Maybe you just don't want to lose me as that person you hang out with when no one else has time or wants to hang out. Sorry babe, that's not who I am. I can actually be engaging and funny. Ask my friends who miss me because I graduated and came back home. They'll gladly take my invitations to hang out. In fact, they're pretty damn jealous that you live close enough to me to visit and aren't taking advantage.
I don't care why you do it, I just hate it when you lie.
So my problem is this. I am a liar myself, but I hate being lied to. I can't justify my anger because I'm guilty of the same thing you are, but I'm still almost crazy with how much I have. Anger, that is. I can't get rid of it as easily as I thought I would be able to. And the anger is already simmering down into another layer of slimy black crap, the stuff you find on the bottom of a pan that hasn't been washed in who knows how long. It stays there, and gets even harder with every heating, making it that much harder to clean off. That is my anger. It's been ignited so much I'm not sure I can clean it off. And I'm conflicted because I'm being a hypocrite. I condemn you for the same thing I do. Which I don't like. I would prefer to just be angry at you without doubting the validity of my anger.
So, moving on. I'm a hypocrite and I don't like it, but I'm still angry as piss at you. And for the record, I'm a wonderful person, a statement that can be backed up by several others, and am a viable candidate for the amorous attentions of a young man. I'm not sure why I still haven't found someone to take me up on my offer. Maybe it's because I never leave my house, choosing instead to swim in my pool and read in my hot tub, occasionally interact with others, and read an alarming amount of fan fiction while watching loads of movies and shows. I also have a proclivity for lounging around in various states of undress.
Well, this blog post has turned out to be a bit longer than I thought it would. Before I forget, I have another disclaimer. If, as a reader of this blog, you know who I am and have a concern that you might be the subject of a blog post, don't mention it to me. If I haven't said anything to you, chances are I don't want to talk about it with you.
I'm going to go to bed so I can wake up and go to church.
Ta, loves.
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