no.
i don't want to go to your party. or your party. or any other party.  it's not you.

no.
i don't want to grab a drink.

no, i don't want to go back to your place.
no. i don't want to watch you play your game.

no. i don't want to have sex on my roof in a hurricane, not with you.

no. the city is in the blood. you can live here but you'll never really understand unless you grew up here too.

no, y' missed the tiny window where i was starstruck.

no. i like you guys, but i just can't.

no. i haven't. i don't remember the last time i did.

no. i know you, but you don't know me, nor want to. i'm tired of trying. try again next year. or next time.

no. i don't care. or i don't need this.

no.
i'm walking away. check it out. i'll do the sad face and beg forgiveness if ya want. it's not real, but i do it real well, and i can do it if it'd please ya. i'd probably do it to please me.

no. i don't care for your art galleries or artist friends. i'd rather sit at a bar alone, and laugh at people.

no. i don't want to grab dinner.

no. my bed sounds nicer than yours.

no. you never ask me to sing for you.

no. you're too much work.

no. with people like you in my life, i'll never need a mistress, or a whore, or a girlfriend. especially not a girlfriend.

no.
i used to love you so much, and now i can't remember what it feels like at all.  i'm not sorry. it was entirely your fault, you selfish, self-absorbed, thoughtless cunt.

no. i used to want to love you so much, and i still don't feel anything at all. too bad.

no.  you're worse than a virgin.  you've never known love or good sex, and kiss like desperation. sorry. i'm not that kind of trainer.

no. you're angry & passive-aggressive, & we haven't even met yet.  what a shame.  i guess i'll never know what i'm missing out on. i'll just have to live with that.

no. if i was your age, i'd feel like a cradle robber.

no. people like you make me laugh.

no.
you're really sweet & good-looking, and you're so nice!
i'd have to be in candycoat around you all the time.
and when that breaks, because it will- inside that sweet & artificially-colored shell, is a lot of delicious sadomasochism, which hey, i think you would have a hard time digesting and swallowing.  i both like you and don't like you enough to do that to you.

no. you're not a nice guy.

no. you're a nice guy.

no. hipster, lol! go cry to your guru. or meditate on the evils of women and lack of enlightenment. you're so funny.

no. i'm out of your league.

no.
i feel ugly today. that's also because i'm ugly today.
try again in a week or two. i'm going to see my friends or watch some community.

no. i'm on fire today.

no. you say i'm depressed and lonely and insecure, but i think you're just projecting and you've been annoying the fuck out of me lately.

no. insecurity is really unattractive.

no. i'm in love, and it's not with you.

no. i'm not really in love, i just didn't know how to word it nicer.

no. oh god. what did i see in you?

no. repeat "bitch" instead. you're not wearing my name out.

no. eh. you don't listen to good music.

no. you're not complex. you're just an asshole who does a few things well.

no. i'm in rare form. think poetic or blue. think anything. sorry. *hides under covers*

no. i'm being happy right now. get back to ya when i'm mellow.

no. i'm too tired.

no. i'm playing my guitar and it's making me feel vulnerable.

no. i'm too good for you. my god.

no. you can't write, and that's a serious criterion. who cares if you can fence? i don't. i don't care what else you can do. just go away.

no.
did you really just use your acquaintance's suicide like that? fuck man. i used to interview suicidal patients and've got plenty of depressed-as-fuck friends.
you're scummy. get the fuck away from me. seriously. i will stop being polite and will start shanking you.

no. i think i'd feel bad about myself.  there's nothing to go on.

no. i know how you are. no red flags, but no journey either. it's already over.

no. because you said no too many times, and now i don't know if i really want to anymore.

no. i'd already decided i was going to say no.

well. eh. okay. alright. fine. yes. why are you so damn cute?

fanny returns to blogging about life. vapidity ensues.

retarded. i'm gonna whup your ass and slap you down if you waste your energy.

does it ever get easier?  i don't mean myself.  i'm happy.  i mean other people.  don't they ever get sick of the routine?

maybe.  it's all got to mean something. or eventually, something is different. so many bodies. what is one more, or one less?  who is don draper, besides a summer man?

or when,
will i be a real girl? you already are. but sometimes i suspect i might be dream figments. something so insubstantial about being alive except when my body thinks it's gonna die and goes oh god and molly blooming at the same time.  hello bdsm joyrides.  meaningless in love, but meaningful in being ridiculously alive.  love is overrated, but also probably one of my favorite timesink indulgence with no payout.  we're all friends in the end, yeah? does romantic love even really exist?

we push people away because we don't really want them.  we're drawn to those who run, so we don't have to run.  it's a sabotage we pretend we can't fight.
eventually everyone tires, so we run inwards, deaden outwards- but not yet.

we're still young. i'm still young.
i bet significantly older people laugh at us when we tell them we know what we want to do in life.

i can sit and mull sometimes.  summer is dead on thursday.  i like ribbons and uncertainty, am bored with obsession.  i know nothing lasts and i don't want it to.

would be nice to have something steady for a while though.
i got over my way-too-enchanted-with-life-wave, and now i'm back to being me. which is good. i'm not a pessimist.

maybe if i derealized or depersonalized less.  (comorbid with high cortisol levels, anxiety disorders, sleep deprivation, half confessions & half bullshit.) it's my reality check when my itty-bitty feel-y-weelies check out.