|She dealt her pretty words like blades.~Emily Dickinson|
Each and every unnecessary evil and private war waged is a 9/11 in and of it’s own, even if it doesn’t get the same publicity. Where there is hate there are casualties.
Ask a man to fix anything, he can. Tell him not to fix a woman and he tries and fails.
Moral of the story is women don’t need, or want to be fixed by men and men don’t listen to women when they say don’t fix me, I’m not broke. Although in my case I am broke, but only financially, but that’s none of your business.
He promised me the world, I didn’t want it, the world was just another lying asshole.
It's funny how the people who don’t accept me suddenly make it their life’s goal to make me accept myself years after I already did and do. The things people do to alleviate their guilt. It's really something special to witness. It's almost insulting to discover how they actually think that I’m stupid enough to gobble that shit up. It’s laughable.
Just because someone feels so uncomfortable that they have to force some kind of bullshit on me that I see right through doesn’t mean I’m uncomfortable with who I am or don’t accept myself. People I know constantly bombard me with their own insecurities and try to make me feel as though their issues are mine when they aren’t.
Having swallowed too much hot air, my pen’s mouth dried. I never cared much for the silent treatment.