Saturday, April 30, 2011
eh, what? @ 23:58
........I don't like it when my close friends are falling.
That, and the atmosphere, the after-effects, the causal, the resulted yapping, and everything about it.
Egoistical? Yes. You know I could barely be altruistic; I don't like it when our usual, superbly random topics switched with wonders about boys & how they're so conspicuous they're worth affectionately admiring. It's not that I never fell, trust me; it's just gotten overheard when they ended up acquiescing, conceding on how stupid they are for being so manic & dull they couldn't get any opportunities to get even closer to whomever they've fallen for. And then they'd contact me; metaphorically crying & regretting everything they've been doing & telling how they'll struggle to stop--yet come to cuss it over the next day as if nothing actually had ever happened & their hearts are renewed again.
And here I am, continuously telling them, "I've got nothing to do with this thing. It's yours, to begin with; & whether or not you realize it, weren't you always back to consent a little hope that he will eventually look at you, over again? Don't be so sure you can be that easily determined to forget someone."
And then they'd concur behind a reason that it's senselessly obsolete. And virtually nod; and finally forget their flicks and we'll be back to our old, scrambled conversations. And they'll incoherently suggest me that I should seek someone so I will stop looking like I'm an augmented reality of an ambiguous male pretending like a female or a lesbian or something--just like what Aji did yesterday.
...yeah. I told him everything; including the fact that I was just interested to 'him' & never really expected it could vastly grow into this sort of superfluous feeling due to unidentified reason. Aji's trustworthy, I thought it would be pretty innocuous telling him this and that; and other than him saying that that guy is a workout addict he does push & sit-ups prior going to bed & afterward & that he's got six-packs, he also encouraged me to go for him--talk to him for a bit, ask him to go for a date. I lightly responded by a simple no, as expected; elaborating on how I'm so squished by my last crush I'm not ready to move on another guy I don't really know just yet.
Or maybe I'm just afraid, I don't know. This kind of conversations are so gay, I hate it.