fucked over

If everyone ( meaning those who don't read this) laughs at each other for just once. How I notice that the unforgettable Mr know it all is looking at me today. He says he has standards and knows how to get what he wants. I am sure he does and I am sure I don't care. Maybe I have this assertive knack to get into someones head. To understand why they like me and why they think they know me right off the back.

I am not easy because I am creative. I have black nails that have been chewed and chewed back on. I have my hair 75% in my face, and no I am not emo. What the hell is emo? I am a woman. I tuck in my shirt to make sure you don't see my fucking thong hanging out. I am not a slut. What the hell is a slut? My hair is straightened and my face is put on every day at six ten in the morning. No I am not fake. What the hell is fake? I like to say that you are a hypocritical fool that has no boundaries when it comes to bringing others down. I like to say that you may have the charm and you may have many talents, but do you even know when my birthday is or what my hobbies are? Would you even be interested? I think that I may be wrong a lot, but with you I think I hit the nail straight enough to hit the side of the brain you never use. But which side would that be? I see you gazing for hours with that Jack Daniels look on your face. I think it wouldn't matter which side I hit.

I thought I would dress up flirty today because I didn't give a fuck what would happen ( although I had an idea). I came up to those ten feet tall glass doors, and I opened them with my burgandy hair swaying to the music of Metallica. You were sitting with this arsed expression, and I came up to you and gave you a fortune cookie. It was already open so you wouldn't have to use your manly strength to open it. I then left you with your I don't know what just happened thoughts. I went up the spiraling bookcase of stairs, and let my side view seek your later intentions. You opened the cookie and then your face dented in with a furious composure.

How does it feel to be fucked over?

I never knew what a man was before. If he would be tall or know what he wanted in life. I didn't know if he would be a working man and keep me safe from harm. I didn't know if he had a wallet or he had just a backpack and his two legs to get him from point a to z. I say z because I am not sure if he would be a man who was lazy and sat on his recliner or computer chair and he could only accomplish point b. There are those who actually go to the gas station and fill up their tank to the full amount without waiting till he is completely out of gas and say that is what men do. I have seen over six guys do that already. They wait till the gas is lick dry, and walk a block to look manly. That is not manly. I think you wanted me to pick you up you lazy ass bum. I am at work though, cause that is what a woman does. They are independent these days.

I think to feel meaningless is to feel like your life is going nowhere. Like everyday you wake up and you do absolutely nothing different. Even if you were to change your wardrobe up a bit, that would be meaningful, but you don't even do that. You look at your empty cupboard and ask yourself why you don't even know how you got food in there. Why you are even looking for food, cause you are not hungry. You have no desire to eat that last goldfish. You have no energy to make fettuccine, because you have no soul. That is a bit harsh, but you have no soul basically. Someone took it away from you. Or a lot of people took it away from you. You gave yourself away to so many like a stray cat. You rubbed up the wrong way every single time. That is why they never come back to you. They use you, and you let them use you.

I did something so stupid today, I gave in. I looked at my horoscope and it said I have a lot to look forward to. It said that today is MY DAY. I don't think I read it right. I believed it for once and I thought that today was my day. I would have profound chemical connections today. I don't know what exactly it meant by that, but it was referring to love. I was surprised and kinda anxious to see what would happen. I am going on a blind date, so maybe that is what it meant by connections. Maybe he is the one( I am being naive).

I went to the mysterious spot I would meet. I know how it feels to be fucked over. Got stood up once again.

You are never going to have a day that is your day. Some other person will always claim it. On your birthday someone will claim it because they hate that you are happy. People can't stand people who are happy. You see some random people and feel a flush of puke green envy towards them. They are smiling, laughing, and doing things your not. You remember the days when you were happy, having flash backs of your ex's and once upon a time family you once had. Your day will not come, and your happiness will come and fade eventually. You go out to a club, you eat dinner with good friends, or you got a new haircut. Your hair is eventually going to grow out again and your going to have to find a new barber. Life is shit all the time, you just have to make sure you don't get constipated from it. My friend told me that the other day. They were one of the most happiest lucky go charm people I met.

They got fucked over eventually too.

Under my bed there is a package of twenty newly varnished playboy magazines. Then right next to those is my self loading pistol. I am going to take the mini torch I have in my garage. I am going to grab the mags and place them on the cotton pillow with cum stains on them. I will then set it aflame as I watch the bimbos die for some sort of pleasure. I will see your bed burn and your porn shit burn more. I am then going to take the pistol and place it in the back of my pants pocket. Its a tight fit, but I just need you to see it. You come home and see the burned stains in your room, your bed in ashes. Your stupid sluts in crumbles. Then you see my pistol. You look at me and know now not to fuck with me again.

I felt fucked over, but later it boomeranged to you.

I head to my car and feel like a tyrant with blood rushing up and down my veins. I am happy, for now at least. I take it back. I had my day today.

Assholes are looking at me as I walk through the shopping district. All they want is what is in my pants. I don't think they would want it, once they mess me over. I turn my head to a group of guys that are antagonizing for my attention. I lift up my shirt so they see it. There faces fall right off there cocks. I am a woman. I am a person. I am more then you'll ever be able to handle.

You'll get fucked over.

I head down to the end of the mall and get myself a new dress to once again start the cycle. My name is what you want it to be, cause my real name is long gone.