"You say that you're in love with me,
But you're in love with Misery
And Misery, she knows me way too well.
And even when you're touching me,
You're always in her company,
Cus nobody can save me from myself
She knows me way too well"
It sounds stupid, but I've honestly been struggling so hard these last few months with my health, and I am so irrationally proud of myself for getting through these last three days. It's not a sprint, but a marathon, and I won the latest mile.
You think I'm afraid of needles?
I'm afraid of dying, elevators, and the dark.
Needles do not frighten me.
For I craft curses at needlepoint
And thread arguments like stitches.
I shall never fear needles,
As one does not fear
An artists weapon of choice.
My uncle in his 60's regularly runs 100 mile marathons and I have never been simultaneously more impressed and less jealous in my entire life. I'm pretty sure my knees wouldn't ever make it past mile 5.
I hate long-winded white men who just like to hear themselves talk and have absolutely nothing to say. Like say SOMETHING. Give me something to THINK about. I'm BORED.