Dramatic

I'm going to write this post as if it were a short story. I'll do this a lot from now on as I "think" about parts of the story. Lets call this story,"Obvious". Let's pretend Wes Anderson will love it and turn it into a movie where I star as the lead because I'm an attention whore? Let's pretend this is all fiction.


"This is the last time I let this happen to me", she was a creature of two parts, always indecisive. Her brain was having a hidden conversation with her heart and they were saying the same thing but her conscience was screaming at them, crying even, really throwing a fucking fit. This couldn't be correct. A joke really, she knew the whole fucking time. It really didn't help she was listening to such angry music at the time. She was really making a fucking mess of her internal organs just sitting there listening to her loud music. She loved every bit of her confusion and as her brain finally said "I can't lie anymore, honey", that's when she cringed. Cringing is the first true human sign of any type of emotion, except happiness. Happiness doesn't have a cringe, bummer. You cringe when you're sick, you're sad, you're disgusted, and most usually when you don't want to face the truth. She was all of the above. She was surer in this genuine pain she was feeling than she was sure of her older man crush on Roman Polanski. She was sure as hell that she would get what she wanted, or she wouldn't feel very well, in all that damn cold.