Words don’t come easy.

Cyanide and Happiness, a daily webcomic
Cyanide & Happiness @ Explosm.net

Run.

I won’t do it anymore.  I’ve decided to face shit, head on.  And to stab friends in the front, not the back.  I’m the person you’ll get the honest answer and opinion from.  I’ve always been that way, but I need to reaffirm this for myself.

Hide.

I’ve hidden far too much of me.  This holiday has taught me that.  Especially when I get told by a male that I’m far too cold on the inside for any average man to penetrate my mind.  I was like, dude – who wants mental penetration anyway?!  Kidding.  Well, okay, I’m not.  Damnit.

Sing.

Drunken karaoke is a bad idea, m’kay?  Especially when I’m singing ‘cry for you’ on the top of my voice in a bar full of strangers, half of them my male colleagues betting on who gets to take me home as the reboundee.  Fuckers.  Thank god BIL was there to save me from myself.

Shooters.

A badder idea.  Especially if purple and mixed with redbull.  Everytime I exhale its all I can taste.  For days.  Although in hindsight, I have been consistently drunk for almost a week now.  Its a personal record I think.  Not one I’m proud of, but its numbed things.

Hats.

Most of my collection was in my stolen car so I’ve started collecting again.  The good news is I found my chic scottish hat and wore it out to Margate and received lots of attention, always a good thing.

Cellphones.

There should be an invention out there somewhere that removes me from my mobile the minute I come into contact with alcohol.  I’ve smsed the one person I really shouldn’t have.  And the reply killed me more than my own first contact.  HAVE I NO SELF CONTROL?!

Turqoise.

The colour of my nails.  I have developed an uncontrollable habit of painting my nails, constantly.  I do it on the toilet, in the bath, on the couch and in my bed.  Its dangerous. I’m like that weird nail painter chick who furiously burrows over her hand with a frown and the tongue out the corner of her mouth.

Dutchmen.

A constant source of entertainment.  Especially whilst on holiday.  I’ve met a bunch of randoms that have kept my friends and I occupied.  Its hysterical.  My mom has unceremoniously planned a wedding to one of them.  I’m not sure who the bride is though, me or her.

Block.

The writers kind.  I’ve lost my funny. If you find it please return, I miss myself.  This new me is hard, cynical and hopelessly doubtful of everything and everyone. It must go away.

7 comments

  1. 6000 says:

    Re: Cellphones. No, you don’t.
    Pls stop leaving me sordid voicemails too.

    ExMi is really putting herself about atm. I foresee a bid for SA Blog Award glory on its way… 😉

  2. Mike Larry says:

    I know this is the wrong place to comment to your last post but the link she is broken. Shebee all i have to advise you on is that Impulse got you down, and not down in the good way, but down twice last year. So I think you should actually use what you were given and take care of decisions.

    Just my 2 cents, sorry we cant use those anymore, so just my 5 cents ;P

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