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[sioux_zq_buckle]

For instance, "this is nonsense" is about as convincing as premature ejaculation, when it's followed by removing me from your friends list, all together, and therefore, barring me from reading your journal. See, that's just what I'm trying to point out. You're merely paying lip service to my desire to get to know you better. You're dropping little

Comments

[chewsonlasers2]

It's not nonsense. I'm dead serious. And I only removed you from my journal to regain some balance in my life. You see, an online relationship can only get so good before it becomes the type that required actual personal contact, at which point it has become creepy. And while I desperatley need new friends in my life, I do not need creepy in my life.

Your relationship with your tumor in potentia is none of my business. I'm just creating boundaries and setting relationships back to a certain point to get back to some privacy and inner peace. It's nothing personal; my only LJ friend is rhythmwhore, and really, separating from her is unimaginable. You understand, I'm sure. Relax, it's not all about you

[chewsonlasers2]

the only thoughts coursing through my brain will be that, in lieu of my cries of desparation, the most compassionate gesture you can make is "let's exchange e-mails."

This doesn't even make sense.

Who'se got you all riled up? Is their journal locked totally, or just to you? 'Cause I wanna read it.

:::sympathetic pat on the back on the way out. When you are getting ready for bed later that night, you find a package of oreos on the bathroom counter:::

[sioux_zq_buckle]

Creepy? "I wish I was special..."

Boy, you had me convinced you were so-and-so. A masquerade may have consequences. Then again as "an occasional BDSMr", you have likely danced yourself to the end of time behind a fresco. Beside that, why would you go to all the trouble of voicing an intimate response to something that wasn't even addressed to you? Oh, you must be meddling.

I'm not telling you who. Posting this in my journal was, more or less, a tactic, that seemed like the only intimate method of approaching a downward spiral of childishness and what, more or less, amounts to evasive maneuvering, or deception. Everything I said makes sense. You just weren't privvy to the logic

dear God. he comprehends sarcasm and satire. i must have him.

[chewsonlasers2]

I wanna perfect body
I wanna perfect soulDude, those were the days. I can't believe I'm old enough to say that, though not by too much. :::sigh::: how frightening

Re: dear God. he comprehends sarcasm and satire. i must have him.

[sioux_zq_buckle]

"I'm a weirdo..."

My relationship with Radiohead was like, "Creep? Fuckin' A! Hey, where'd they go?" And then they pooped out Fake Plastic Trees, and I had fucking nothing to say. Finally, OK Computer came out and I fell in love... a romance which I would, only years later, realize was very few steps above my affair with Pearl Jam in junior high. Anyway,...

In no way did I start this squabble. It's all on you, Lindsay.

My experiences with oils have all been unfavorable, as I tend to enjoy fingering my pallette more than merely carressing it. That attitude toward art is difficult to manage in an organized fashion. Therefore, the more water-soluble your medium, the less work you're going to have to do when it's time to clean up, even though I am aware of turpentine and linseed oil as solutions to the "problem" of seething, oil-based secretions covering one's hand. Water, as it turns out, is cheaper, even if I do steal from Hobby Lobby. Beside all of that, you're married, and I'm heterosexual

nevermind, he has the brains of a clam

[chewsonlasers2]

I can't tell if we're having a sexy good time, or if I've invaded your space and made you angry. Or both. I was hoping for both, but in a gyro yogurt sauce sort of way, not an alcohol on an anthill sort of way. SO I'm going to make lace out of your hide, but know I do it with a grudging sense of sexual attraction and delight

Re: nevermind, he has the brains of a clam

[sioux_zq_buckle]

There's no chance I have syphillis, since I am a virgin. :) I also find it interesting that "sy" is a prefix that translates as "without", and "phil" is another word root that translates as "love". Following either logic, I am readily willing to admit that I'm guilty of coming down with bronchitis, on a number of occasions, and that no matter how stringently I try to identify with my heterosexuality, I have still sucked four cocks, and haven't seen any part of a pussy, since I was... eight? I've lived two lifetimes, since then. Nice to meet you, Nicole (and your nasty gash). I'm Cody

Lindsay pie, no apples, please, ice cream on top. Thanks

[chewsonlasers2]

I am actually going to address this, because it's better than sleeping, which I'm bad at.

Shit, I hope she's worth all the drama. Userpic's pretty, in any case. I at least give you good blowjobs, but I'm not seein' her give it up. Hmmph. Gods willing, your 'Lindsay' is actually 62-yr ol Fred Palmer, out of Shittown, Iowa, sitting with just his colostomy bag and your journal to keep him company. Worst case scenario, she's some really nice girl who thinks I'm a freak.

Peach pie, my man - deep dish, hot, with real vanilla ice cream - none of this plastic 'French Vanilla!" shit. :::puuuurrr:::

You opinions about my inner life are only slight more worthless than you are. And I'd like to seeyou at the business end of a heavy flogger, laced into a gorgeous satin corset. I started making corsets out of jealousy, and make them now out of spite. I wear them, of course, out of vanity

Re: Lindsay pie, no apples, please, ice cream on top. Thanks

[sioux_zq_buckle]

You know, you should really keep your cruelty to yourself. Such atrocious mannerisms belong in exchanges between character actors. If you want to bring that dominant attitude up in here, you will eventually find yourself out of breath, because such associations are merely the rungs you cling to on the ladder toward attaining an actual identity. I am sorry you are sad and lonely. That actually concerns me. Most of what you say is pretty much junk.

[lindsay_buchel]

i was sure that this was about me, but after some other livejournal user replied, i'm not so sure anymore.

you are constantly sending me mixed signals, telling me that you'd like to be friends and then sending me a livejournal comment saying that it might be best if we went out separate ways. ?

i emailed you a long and sincere email straight from the heart and you never bothered to reply. what does that tell me?

[sioux_zq_buckle]

i didn't find your e-mail sincere. it was rhetoric, and it was rhetoric which i've had plenty of exposure to. as a matter of fact, i find that all of our interactions remain on the fringes of "inter-personal". as a matter of fact, i don't know if you're capable of combining "personal" with "genuine". somehow, it seems that a move toward one is tantamount to shying away from the other. so, maybe we're better off just dribbling in each other's user comments.

i really feel we might be missing the perfect opportunity to tell each other how much we like each other's journals by doing all of this arguing.

[lindsay_buchel]

you misinterpret everything that i write to you. you take the feeling and sincerity right out of it, strip it down to something heartless and flippant. you seem to think that i blow you off and that i'm careless.

i'm not arguing with you, i'm telling you: that you've got me all wrong, and i refuse to say it until i'm blue in the face. i refuse to tell you things until i'm tired of saying them. i will not repeat myself, i will not re-organize my words in a way that best suits you, i will not defend myself. this is me, i have told you how i feel twice and thrice times over, and if you feel that i am still being insincere and not up to par with your own self, then so be it.

[sioux_zq_buckle]

i like you, lindsay. that is all i know. i don't believe everything you say, and i would much rather you not admonish my relationships with other people on the internet, but i want a truce. i can be a one-way street if you don't know how to drive. with you, i'm afraid i might go on some tirade about how annoying cellphones are (for instance) while you're contemplating suicide, and i would never know the difference, and you wouldn't ever feel inclined to enlighten me, but the fact of my ranting might break you up inside. i'm not borrowing anything from actual experiences we've shared, i'm just trying to illustrate something. you're a minimalist. you're a haiku to my Odyssey. that doesn't mean i think you aren't up to par... that isn't what i'm trying to voice