last night my two best friends got really mad at me and yelled. One of was them mad at me for being too smart and the other one was mad at me for being too dumb.
I wasn't mad at you, god dang it. I was mad in general, your story was simply one I could take, I did not want to hear. You know, everything isn't about you. Women internalize unhappiness in their presence, or as a result of theirs, to their moral dis-credit. However, that is simply not always true. Last night, I thought your story from my percpective of you was silly, dumb and all together understandable and fine (relatively speaking, and I've certainly done worse, and understand in a general sense; also identifing that all is hypothetical in your conversation, but it was the thought that killed me). That said, the larger connotation of women in general is what pissed me off, and that I am so stupid as to miss it, so stupid as to not get mad when I see it, so stupid as to believe something other than what the evidense of my experiance and understanding of humanity provides. In short, my anger was a response to reality's repeated theme directed at my belief in love and romance, fuck you.
2 comments:
I wasn't mad at you, god dang it. I was mad in general, your story was simply one I could take, I did not want to hear.
You know, everything isn't about you. Women internalize unhappiness in their presence, or as a result of theirs, to their moral dis-credit. However, that is simply not always true.
Last night, I thought your story from my percpective of you was silly, dumb and all together understandable and fine (relatively speaking, and I've certainly done worse, and understand in a general sense; also identifing that all is hypothetical in your conversation, but it was the thought that killed me). That said, the larger connotation of women in general is what pissed me off, and that I am so stupid as to miss it, so stupid as to not get mad when I see it, so stupid as to believe something other than what the evidense of my experiance and understanding of humanity provides.
In short, my anger was a response to reality's repeated theme directed at my belief in love and romance, fuck you.
that is reality saying 'fuck you' to me.
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