It Really Moves (Is it Human?)

What's worse than seeing your ex at the grocery store? Being strungout from cocain when you see her, and you have an anxiety attack, and quickly hide in some random aisle, which is ironically full of stuffed animals, and heart shaped candy and choclates, and you're just waiting it out patiently until the coast is clear.

H-o-l-y shit. I always get this anxiety in the pit of my stomach whenever I see my ex-girlriends around. Luckily I'm moving to a new city, and I won't have to deal with that anymore. Well, until I break a few heart there I mean. Fuck, fuck, I need a kick to my head. I can't handle women. I went out to a club the other night, and I was kneeling down talking to this girl, who for some reason kept burping in her throat, and she kept apologizing for it. Meanwhile this guy was hand feeding her noodles out of a tupperware dish, and I'm just kneeling there with this declining interest in her. Luckily they throw on some obscure song I love by The Sisters of Mercy, and me and my buddies run out to the dancefloor, and ditch these people we were hanging around, who happen to leave right after we left them.

I have the worst of luck with people. Strange people, sometimes interesting, sometimes good looking, but always timid and insecure. And when I think about having sex with them it doesn't really do it for me. That night at the club, which was close to empty, I felt lost and a bit self destructive, so I impusively chucked a glass on the floor in the bathroom, and when it shattered I grabbed a piece of the glass and started cutting up my arm. But beer was on special tonight, so I have no reason to be unhappy. I get this gratification when at least I've gone out, and I've talked to a new person, even though I'm only going to give them a minimal effort, which is usually more than they can offer in return. -- Whatever.

Who believes in love? I believe in love, but maybe not in the hands of another person.