I want someone to come in and complicate things. to love me or hate me, to ripple the pond ever so slightly and cause something inside me.

anything.

jesus. jesus, why did you have to go and say that?

god must be fucking with me.

you know i was thinking of doing exactly that? no, you wouldn't know that. you think i hate you, don't ever want to see you again and would kill you if i did.

i wouldn't. but it's hard to listen to you and not get angry.

if i came back into your life, it'd be screaming and sulking and raging all the time. i'd feel stuck. i'd act like i was being held against my will, pulled into something i never wanted to be in again. i'd be screaming and giving the finger and hitting and punching.

you know what? if we were lovers, i'd like it. i'd fucking love it. torrents of emotion and all that bullshit. screaming and fighting and condescending tones. and then later we'd fuck, and it would be the best sex you'd ever had, the best i'd ever had, because hate sex is the best. and we'd come to hate each other, believe me. believe me. anyone stuck with me for an inordinate amount of time eventually wants to kill me, slowly and painfully.

song: "pure morning" - placebo