May. 10, 2004 - 8:12 a.m.
Brainiacs

Ahhh, Modest Mouse's Night on the Sun. The first song I was introduced to. Memories attached to that.

I wonder how quazymike is doing?

I was awakened by my neighbours child this morning screaming because she didn't want to take a bath. "NOOOOOOOO I don't want to get in" peppered with "GET IN".

Gah.

I find brilliant men infititely attractive, yet infinitely terrifying and intimidating all at once. I love to read their emails, I love to listen to them talk, I love the passion they have for things that inspire them. I love the way their broad vocabulary rolls off their tongues.

I have this fear, though, a steady one, that I will not be able to measure up. That they will discover that I am a fake, and have the mind of an aardvaark. That "me talk pretty and me think me smrt" and that really, I'm just the same as any other dimwitted girl who just wants to be pretty. I don't think I'm that, really, I just am afraid that I will discover this is what I truly am, and they will be the ones to prove it.

Just another way that I pursue things that will ruin me? They are often more logical than I, these guys, therefore, my passionate emotional nature escapes them, confounds them and frustrates them.

What am I getting myself into this time?

old bitching - random - new bitching

Reads Like:
Brave New World
Sounds Like:
Interpol - PDA
Feels Like:
missing you less.

0 fussbugets said...



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