Okay, so at this point I've locked down all social media accounts, minus this one, Lord knows buyer beware here, I've blocked messages on my phone so they don't alert me, but I can still go back and view them. 12. Twelve more messages from what I now feel like is a bad joke.
I did get a chuckle when I looked for the first time in days.This person is fucking relentless. I promise you we will be together. I promise I am truly Michael Thomas Green. I swear, I check my phone all day looking for you to text and nothing. (up until now it really kind hurt) But when I just looked to see this messages still coming after zero correspondence, And then Celion Dion lyrics... swear .. undo the pain you caused when you walked my life, come back again, say you love me again, I've cried so many nights.. real text messages... I miss you, I have found my one true love.
I got a grin. At least he's not trying to sell me a briefcase again.
You know what? as funny as it is and not, at least my romanticism was fucking original. At least my fantasies (admittedly so) on love had depth. And my depth was effortless. On a lighter note... I was asked out on a real date. I don't think I know how to do that anymore. How do people do those things?
Like I put makeup on for work only I suppose because without it my eyebrows have disappeared from stress. I look like I kinda sorta have a normal face.
A date? After being someones prey. I now feel a little sad for every man I just treated like a piece of meat while in the deep seas of my sex addiction. After being toiled and let down, time and time, and time, and time, and time again. Trying again... Fucking redundant at this point.
Even offered to pick a girl up... And when I respectively declined, He said it's okay I'll understand if you want to escape. Which I mean honestly is exactly why, you can't get out of a bad date if you ride together?... I don't think he's is trying to sell me briefcase, I do think its possible from his social media that he's an attention craving nymphomaniac. And although attractive, how does one go that route as a celibate over analytical creep. Lets see if I puss out.
I'm dying, (dramatically and self induced) I have no friends, I have no life, I work, I have zero... zero sex life. I don't sleep. Seriously going on 4 hours of sleep in 72 hours. Not an ounce of it last night, that's after taking 17 natural sleep aide pills. Clearly they don't work either. I really did google if you could O.D. on those things. Thankfully it's a negative.
I am Jack's medulla oblongata. I never stop working. Despite requests and a suggestion box. Zero sleep. I feel like everyday is a day that runs together. A continuation with brief break that allows for quiet time and staring at the ceiling. Also the couch. And rotating positions so much not even my dog wants to lay with me anymore.
Who in their right mind would want to take me out on a date? I want to text dude and be like, you know I'm fucking crazy right? I mean, I'm not cutting you up into pieces crazy, but I'm definitely lets break into an abandoned building and have an adventure crazy. And then there's the lets not do a damn thing all day.
I dream of a vinyl records love. Sipping scotch with friends, smoking a cigar, listening to some of my old B.B. King albums. Till everyone is gone and I get that look in my eye.. And I'm taken in the throws of passion on the couch until our record repeats.
Who can really deal with me? I'm a nerd. I like reading. Learning. Cartoons. Rick and Morty. Physics. Quantum physics. Theoretical physics. My idol is Einstein. No meat eating, cow petting on bad days, dreams of box cars and days of seeing the world on my own two feet. Parachutes. Wonder.
To date or hide That is the question. I really could just pet cows today.
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