Let's vent. Wheee!

Last night it was raining even though it was well below freezing which is just too perfect for the scene. Of fucking course I would’t even be able to appreciate the grace of some falling snow (SP reference!). Nope, just unequivocally dreary rain with exponentially miserable cold. Which is just so indicative of this little melodrama. I can’t even derive some perverse validation from it. Not even some sick, fleeting glimmer of “Ha ha, I win, I told you so.”

I am not dark and twisty. Ever. I am not fraught with regret, resentment, or disappointment. I have never wanted a do-over in my entire life. So a whole chit chat about missed opportunities, guilty conscience, and star-crossed love is not is my repertoire. But now, even though I was, am, and will be over it, here I am ranting about it anyway.

Obviously, the timing on this is completed fucked regardless, but really. Right now? This month? This week? This weekend? I’m busy. My internal monologue humming like like an aurora. I’ve got other stuff going on. The lightning bolt, the arrow, that voice, you know? THAT. I’m fucking busy. A big blinking sign flashing “the rest of your life, this way!” is right over there and it’s either going to Candyland or a grim, Brothers Grimm, ill-lit, darkly wooded area. Being moronically blissed makes a girl suspicious. I do, after all, have a history of leaping before i look. So, yeah. KIND OF OCCUPIED.

And now I know why that stupid Queen of Cups bothers be so much. Because I HAVE been like that and it’s fucking hard work. Being like that is a thankless job and so far all it does is make people more comfortable, more lazy, and take you for granted the more you do it. And then after, of course, without fail, they come back. But I am not a patient Griselda. I don’t want the last laugh.

Anyway, now it’s time for some of this:

AHAHAHAHAHHAHA.