My feelings are transparent and malleable as hot candy glass.Īnd maybe there is no hope for any of us. Two nights in a row I’ve worn a sweatshirt. The sandals I bought at the beginning of the summer are curling up at the ends and the pattern on the sole is almost gone. If I had a car that would get me there intact, I would for real go there right now. TIL the closest place to my apartment where they serve fresh frozen yogurt at 6 am is Frozen Yogurt Express in Highland, IN. I’m hurting and here’s why.” That’s some next-level cowardice. I’m not brave enough to look my best friend in the eyes and say “Here’s the shit I’m feeling, and it’s tearing me up. Long story short, all this shit started piling up because I was too afraid to talk about it from the beginning. Deeper meanings behind this fear include my lack of faith in my friends (or anything else, for that matter) and my inherent distrust of myself, but those are Level 2 problems and will be dealt with in the future. I fear that all the shit that’s going on with me is completely trite and insignificant, meaning the last 6 months of my life have been wasted on all fronts. I’m also scared of sounding like a dumb ass trying to explain all this shit.
But it’s very warm and cozy and comfortable, so I’m scared of falling out and being expected to interact with my surroundings, covered in my own shit. It’s a cool thing in moderation, but when 80% of the things you think about are things that no one else in the world knows, it’s easy to disappear up your own asshole. There’s a certain intimacy and sense of mystique that comes with having secrets with yourself. And I’m also kind of scared of losing the privacy that comes with having all your shit pent up inside your head. Therefore, what I’m really afraid of is change and the unknown. So I’m scared of what unknown thing happens when My Bullshit is released into my real life. My Bullshit only exists in my head as of this moment, and as soon as I say any of it out loud to a real-life person, it exists in the paradigm of the actual universe. I can’t address it if it doesn’t exist in any real context. What am I scared of? I’m scared of vocalizing any of the shit I need to talk about because I don’t want it to be real. I’m hiding my body under a blanket of fat, hiding my thoughts behind clouds of smoke and hiding my sex drive from any tangible reality by circumventing it into the abstract ether of the internet. I get high and eat tacquitos and talk dirty to strangers online because I’m hiding. I’m very very afraid, so I hole up in my apartment. I’m so scared, I’m actually incapable of saying “I’m scared,” in fear of being judged for being scared. This is probably the truest thing about me. Omitting the direct object is used to take advantage of the similarity of expressions ("eat at a restaurant" vs. For the "cunnilingus" meaning, a direct object is almost always used.Submitted by Walter Rader (Editor) from Sacramento, CA, USA Ben / Nick", Louie (TV), Season 1 Episode 3 (2010) censored in hope of resolving Google's penalty against this site. I ate her out right where you're sitting now. Citation from "Pregnant", Louie (TV), Season 2 Episode 1 (2011) censored in hope of resolving Google's penalty against this site. Submitted by Anonymous from Chicago, IL, USA What's eating you? Citation from "Rosetta", Alphas (TV), Season 1 Episode Episode 4 (2011) censored in hope of resolving Google's penalty against this site. Forget you, I gotta eat and provide for my crew. To make money, and survive to feed your self and others.See more words with the same meaning: cunnilingus.
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