Tuesday, January 26, 2010

On the way out, remember to flash your boobs and raise your third finger

So here's the deal.
I don't care anymore, I just don't. And it, you, this, that, everything, it makes me laugh. It makes me literally break into a smile and then guffaws because I realize that I don't give two hoots about what's left.

Justin mentioned, just before leaving, that he got the sense he had inadvertently pissed some people off. And I'm starting on that too. Not anymore deliberate than him either.
But it's funny because, and when I say this I'm talking about distant people, I can't be bothered. I can't be bothered to be nice and apologize and make sure I leave this really nice impression of myself upon you.
Because honestly speaking, I don't give a flying fuck.

Some I don't know from Adam, and some I do/did know and then we're just worlds apart now. But all that doesn't matter because there's this insane sense of carelessness.
In fact, I wanted to say, "It was a joke, shame most of it went over your head. But I shouldn't be surprised now."
I mean, that's how much I don't care!
And what would usually have annoyed me and sparked of a rant filled with more annoyance and frustration just has me shaking my head and smiling.
Because you are funny, funny people.

It's alright for you to pull YouTube vids off the net and criticize and laugh and pass it around. But when people start doing it to you, it's not okay.
It's alright for you guys to kick up a fuss about Ris Low and her bad English, when in fact, YOU SPEAK EXACTLY LIKE HER AND THEREFORE SHE IS A PERFECT REPRESENTATION OF YOU. And then what you pass off as "jokes" (aka your boomz and your shingz) go on for so bloody long that dinosaurs came back to earth and then shot themselves in the face.

You are funny, funny people.

And I don't care anymore. Not about offending anyone, not about grovelling and pacifying you. Of course I'm not burning my bridges, that's not it. It's just that for some reason, I can't really be bothered.
I laugh at you.

I'm not kidding.
In the middle of the day I want to stop in the middle of the road, point at random people and just burst into crazy laughter. It's quite liberating, mind you.
I want to laugh at the people standing in front of an empty seat on a crowded bus and thinking that they are considerate. I want to laugh at the women slouching and sticking their sex tummies out at the world while they drag their feet, clad in slip-on kitten heels that don't fit, making their toes SQUDGE out the front of their shoes.
I want to laugh at the pompous prick over the counter who's telling me what to do.
I want to laugh, laugh, laugh.

Yes, the holidays will happen. The reunions, the pictures, the goodbye dinners. But with people that matter. With people that get it.
With people that can laugh at themselves, can laugh at me and with me.
The people that I keep in touch with, they're so incredibly worth it. And I care about them immensely.

But you, person who I'm not close to, person who doesn't understand, who cannot take what she can give. Person who I barely know. Person who I once knew and then just promptly ran of things to say.
My sincerest apologies,
but it's just that I cannot find it in myself,
to summon the energy to give a flying fuck.

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