Thursday, July 2, 2009

Miracle on 71st St.

It's about to be one of those depressing blogs, so if you can't stand a sad Miss X, please refer to my other posts of tomfoolery.

Usually around my birthday, I'm either anxious or upset about some one who's disappointed me.

I share feelings of disappointment faster than feelings of anger.

Seldom do I look towards others for advice or guidance. I truly am a free spirit and believe all things happen when they happen for a reason.

I'm typically the friend that can be leaned on for assistance or the person who's designated to just sit and listen or just sit and say nothing. My presence, can sometimes be just as comforting.

So, when the time comes when I need to vent, all I hear are crickets and silence.

Part of me believes that I do this to myself by letting so few in. But I wonder if I was created and shaped this way for a bigger purpose.

Either way, I'm amused when the mutes, as I've dubbed them, make it be known that their in a jam and need your assistance, and need it asap.

And of course, because I'm always nurturing to those who are in my circle, I end up putting aside my $hit to go play in their f-cked up sandbox mess that they themselves have created.

It's even more amusing when those same exact people, who at this point are the scum of the earth in my opinion, kiss your a$$ just to ask for a favor.


You can quote that if you like.

I'm disgusted with peoples behavior sometimes.

I'm not up on a soapbox saying I'm perfect, but damn in comparison to most, I'd say I'm pretty close.

You can also quote that.

Days like this remind me exactly why I keep to myself.

My olive branches don't grow anymore.

So, f-ck you, and you, and oh yeah, yup you to.

The Best 24th birthday that anyone could ever ask for.

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