Ridiculousnessmus

Or something. My wonderful friend Monky is greatly sad at the moment, over a combination of man-badness and poorliness. All totally undeserved, but that's the way things seem right now. I too teeter curiously on the edge of maudlin at present. Today I went shopping for jeans. Every pair I tried on made me look like a hippo. I have now decided that I need to starve myself for a week or two to make this affliction better. I'm also aware that this is stupid, that I am as I am, that I will put the weight back on in a matter of days, and that a kilogram less fat has never equated it's "weight" in happiness. And yet I will still do it.

I hope that this feeling is inspired simply by a lack of light. I fear it may be a lack of man. The more I think, the more pitiful I feel, which leaves me wondering whether it wouldn't be better to be some thick bint, who wanders aimlessly through life, picking up what scraps are thrown her way. No amount of grand ambitions, supposed wit, intellect, and independence has ever got me further than acting like a embarrassing tart, a hopeless reject, or a heartless bitch, on every occasion that has called for the opposite.

Fuck it though, this is me - sometimes cool, sometimes clumsy - and I suppose I wouldn't have it any other way.