A Pink Move Toward You
<< 8:06 p.m. - Friday, May. 28, 2004 >>
�Why do the good girls always want the bad boys?�

I had to honestly ask myself this question today. Yesterday too. Ah, every single fucking day. Crap. I can�t find the answer. I can�t explain why I set myself up for self-loathing, or why I play into character roles. Heh, as I�ve said before, I am the metaphorical robin�s egg.

I really didn�t expect what happened at Alex�s party, but he did. Why is my subconscious such a plotting and scheming creature? And why the hell am I so oblivious to my own buried motives. Drugs bring this out. I don�t have to answer as responsibly for my dilated actions. What's more I can ignore the actions of someone who has the disastrous capability of hurting a friend. You made me so angry I had to leave the house. And you, well, I hate the lure you have for me. I don�t want to be a goddamn hungry brainless fish.

But I am.
At least I can laugh about it.