Sex, Drugs, & WhatdaFAWKS!?

 I'm reading a book. Soak that in, for a spell. This isn't a dream. The Devil isn't wearing a Snuggie & holding a hot Starbucks espresso. [Are those still accurate references?] Hoes, I'm like totes maturing. A little less than a week & I will have been 19, for a month. No lie. The grey "pubs" are sprouting as we speak. My ballsack are all Taylor Hicks-ed out. [Again, the relevance of my jokes should be in question.] 
 
 I'm embarking my journey through the mind of Chuck Klosterman. Sex, Drugs, and Cocoa Puffs. For your information, I read about one book, a year. I read at the most pivotal points in my life, I've noticed. I Am Not Myself These Days, mirrored my life as a dual-rolled being. The memoir, not only, brought me out of my shell, but, it also made me realize what my shell was made up. It showed me the girth, the brittleness, the moments it was used, & why it existed in the first place. It began my thirst for a bigger life, & quenched my thirst, I once had, for venturing in porn. Yes, I know. I know what you're thinking, "I'd pay to see that."

 Junior year, in GA, a new friend gave me a just as influential book. A Child Called, "It". Beautiful, tragic, just numbing story. A story I could've/shouldn't have related to. Golly. That was a bleak year.

 On with the present, Sex, Drugs, and Cocoa Puffs. 4 pages in, I usually tell if I'll love a book. This is a keeper. So much to cover, but I'll keep it Fun Size. This nigguh is reading the XY side of my brain. That's all the thoughts that are "masculine", "guy", Fred Flinstone-esque, you know, dumb. But, parts I appreciate, dearly. 
 
 I grew up through television. I wouldn't be anything close to myself, without this box o' doom. It's my portal away. It's my reminder that it could be better, & worse. I learned more about sexuality, via Danny from Real World: New Orleans. Here's him, nekhed. No, really. Not only did I say my first word, by repeating Wheel of Fortune, but, I learned how to read, by putting the closed captioned settings on. You may laugh, but, I became the smartest kid in my class, because of it. I was, constantly, forced to read Junie B. Jones to my class, at the end of the day. [That bitch needs to be whooped.] Mother-Donal-Duck-Fucking-Goose could touch my skills. 

 Television is my vice, & my bible. Klosterman speaks of how the biggest threat tv was on America, is the "fake love", it portrays. Everyone compares, & fails to achieve, themselves to the Rosses & Rachels of the media. No one, who isn't taking pills [prescribed or otherwise], would hold a jukebox above their head, outside a girls window. Unless, you're at a bootcamp, & it's playing something horrible to get you out I'd bed. I suggest the whole library of Justin Bieber's non-duet library. [Google a quote by Mos Def, about the Bieber, for quick hilarity.] 

 Anyways. This romanticism is unobtainable. Unless, for those of us who want to maintain a stable life. I'm a victim. I hate Anne Rice, with a fiery burn. I went through months of being compared to a less-hormonal Edward Cullen. I don't even want to read a book by that religion-Anne-Heche bitchtard. Ugh. Luckily, that issue is cold & dead, like this white lady lying next to me. By the way, does anyone want a fancy writing pen? It looks pretty nice. The only thing is that is says "Property of A.R." But, the owner doesn't need it, where she's going. Jussayin. 

 Basically, you have to look at relationships as a unique experience. Completely new to the world. Which is what a great relationship is. It's new, adventurous, work. I never tried to compare my relationship with Alex, to anyone. I might have seen similarities, but, never compare. Because, no person thinks exactly like you. No one really knows your struggle. Because we all have gone through certain things, certain formulas that have created this personal life. And although we may have similar story lines, & views, & personality traits, we are not the same. [...I am a Martian. Sorry. I couldn't resist.] If you & a friend have the same relationship issues, it's okay to give/get advice. But, process the outcome. Process your relationship in those terms. It might not always work out. 
I never compared Alex, to Marco & Dylan. Ron & Kim. To Ciara & Alan. Because, you get yourself in that mind-set. But, surprise surprise, you aren't those people. You screw yourself. Which was something he did. He made himself upset because I wasn't a silk shirt wearing, pale as paper, vampire. Yeah, I had work to do, but I am a great boyfriend. I will not, choose not to be whomever he had this mind-set I was. I'm me. You're you. Let's just start from there. 

I'm gonna finish reading this book. I just has to post this, before I put it off, another 5 more years. 

Peace and carrots.