Friday, November 12
I think I might plan to go to the mall soon. No I am not a fucking mallcore dipshit, I need an Auntie Anne pretzel.

The flesh wound on my finger got infected or something. Seeming that the scab is green, added to the fact that my hands are really dry. Dry could either be flaky and white or flaky, white, and bloody.

Ilona called me last night. It had been a year since I last saw her. The reason she stopped calling about six months ago is beyond me. Some friend, not communicating with you at all for almost a year for no apparent reason, even if they have not moved to another part of hell in the States or to whore themself off legally somewhere in Amsterdam. She said she missed me, but obviously I could tell through her voice that it was not true. She also kept asking what was going on in my life. I kept saying nothing, not because that my parents were in hearing distance somewhere in the kitchen and living room, but I don't consider her to be worthy of getting into my personal affairs. Ilona is horrible at being a decent person, let alone friend, even worse than I, believe or not. When something bad happens she doesn't show a single wrinkle or frown of sympathy for the person it happened to, and is the most fucking lazy bastard I know. More than I, it's that fucking hard to believe. Lazy not in the sense of a pothead but lazy in the sense of a stupid snob.

But anyway, over the past year she's had at least two(?) boyfriends or flings or one-night stands, I don't know what. Possibly more anyway. All claiming to be cute. And I forgot why she even hooked up with such losers and then breaking up with them soon afterwards. Well I can guess the breaking up part - she never takes a single goddamn thing seriously and dates guys for the dumbest (maybe dumber than Gwar, but that's just way too dumb) reasons. I think she dated one guy just because she felt sorry that he had no friends.

Yup, you guessed it, she asked if I had any boyfriends yet. No I haven't. And to be honest I never did in my entire history of, nothing. I guess people seldom comment on my positive vanity, but I have shitty, horrible communication issues, and I think that's why I've never gotten anything. Yes, I do marvel over some impossible catches which are probably around forty or over years old by now (it's not cool to get old, Izzy) but I don't take those kind of things seriously. Being boycrazy just makes you feel worse and worse about yourself. Once you start to really look at it, no not a naked poster of Fabio's ass, you start to realize you can never ever bag let's say, Ashton Kutcher. (Yeah, shitty example but I don't know how else to dig into your miniscule dumbshit heads.) I congratulate you when you even reach to this point. And then well I don't want to get into this, you really make a zit-covered ass out of yourself and it's overall not appealing. To anyone.

But lately I realized I don't need a boyfriend right now, something totally the opposite of my latter years. The saying "In order to love another, you must first love yourself," is very true, I've learned. Girls just like to throw themselves around in pimpin' pussies' arms because they don't think they're good enough whores to impress everyone else (which is lack of confidence in oneself). They don't even devote themselves to their mates or even love them at that much and it's just an utter waste. Not a waste if you just want to get some ass and crabs, but that's something else that I'll discuss someday. Growing dependent on someone means you don't have the will in yourself to even take care of your own shitful self. And when you love yourself at last, I highly think that you will love someone else even way more than you ever possibly imagined that you could.


Christina N. @ 10:56 PM