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Would you like to think you can break me?

I could pull out some bullshit about me being a wild horse that can't be tamed, that can't be broken. But I'm not in the mood to convert to temporary bulima with that overdone analogy.

I don't love, and don't want to love, because it comes with no ******** guarantee. It's not worth getting your hopes up for, and it's not worth the heartbreak when it's over, and I'm always the one that gets broken. Everything comes to an end, and with love, it's almost always a great, big, burning ball of hate and dispise. I don't want that s**t.

And what if I admitted to it now? "ILUVUHURHUR" while this internal and external crock is going on? Doesn't that sorta ruin it? Would he want to hear it? Probably not. Do I wanna say it? No, most definately not for the reasons above. So why the ******** do I keep getting asked and why in the hell do people keep saying I do? Is it so bizarr that anyone would have a liking to anyone else based on conversation with a void of that sunshine-dandelion-happyfeildsoflove-and-hearts-and-joy? And like it?

Stop trying to get into my ******** head, it's strictly exit only. No admittence. No exceptions. There's nothing there you wanna see, move along already.

I'm concidering the possibilities of me going to Baltimore next month or not. It depends on whether I can get that time off of work or not and if I can fly up there or not. Or if I put a gun in my mouth and paint the walls first. I'm not serious about that last sentence, I just feel like it. I'm tired of getting poked in the eye and ******** with. Or talked about.

Just... right now, everyone can go to hell for all I care at this specific moment in time. I'm going to bed.