This evening- well, to be totally honest, merely the last twenty minutes of this evening- has left me nothing short of mind-numbingly conflicted. Looming in the horizon sat the reality I am now facing, with resolution on either of the two ends of the idiotic spectrum. Both colors of this metaphor are currently kindergarten-finger-smeared all over someone who, for many years reigning and even more to come, will remain a fixture of my life and its understanding forthwith. I've been left with no choice but to deem someone, a person I find a rather ingenuous mix of cosmic creativity and reverent logic, the ultimate doo-doo head.
With sheer brilliance must also come sheer moron-acy. Moron-itis. Moron-ness.
My point- why are smart people total and complete knuckle-sandwiches? With cheese? And why do the chips they come with never suit my at-the-moment tastes? Why not potato salad? Or vegetables on the side?
Why must these infernal banes of my existence always keep me craving for robust and more inviting expansions in their future, only to exhaust all my trust and succumb to the pressures of all things peer?
And why do I keep speaking of these things in multiples? Do I have more than one doo-doo head, finger-painted, metaphorical mess in my life right now?
No. Just the one. And I want to cut his adolescent little face off for being so careless.
It is very obviously one in the morning, and I am very obviously disappointed with someone I care about greatly.
Cue "perfect excuse to stop writing scathingly and play sudoku."
And...
Go.
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