eStalk

I have a dirty secret.

I stalk boys.

On the internet.

Facebook has taken over my life, and aside from adding nearly every friend I've ever had with the aid of the search function, I also have one or several boys I've made the sex with. Although to be fair to myself, I did delete a few the other day because I no longer care enough to be updated with their hourly status.

But now there's one boy. One boy that I F5 my page every ten minutes or so for because I desperately want to know who he's writing messages to. It's becoming an addiction. A horrible addiction. I read messages from his mates who happen to be girls and have this overpowering need to know if he returned their kisses. But they've got their profiles set to bloody private so I torture myself with "oh noes he's definitely shagging her" and leaving her x's.

I also get a pedantic pleasure from judging people by their spelling and grammar. Call me a Nazi, but these things are important. And I am infinitely superior to any girl that can't even leave a three line message without the use of one comma, full stop, capital letter or apostrophe. Oh yes I am. He should stop shagging them and shag me some more. I am best.

Oh. Fucking. Hell.

Bloggers Block

I haven't blogged in such a long time. Partly because I don't pimp this blog anywhere, so am fully aware that posting is mostly a waste of time. But also because I never know what to say. I don't want to be full of woe with my words, but at the same time how many times can I say I'm happy? My moods are so erratic, one day I'm up the next I'm down. There is no consistency, which I know is much the same for everyone but I don't generally have any reasons for why I'm swinging back, forth up and down.

Recently, my life seems to have taken a path I'm not sure I'm entirely comfortable with. It's not a massive change, but big enough for me to look at myself and question if I'm happy with the way I'm behaving.

I'm repeating a cycle. Over and over. It never breaks. And although I can lay as much blame on those who help me get myself into these situations, only I alone can at any point say "no", but I don't. I go with it. Because for a short while I'm completely happy and relaxed and enjoying myself.

I blog about my best friend and the mistakes she makes time and time again, yet I'm just as bad. Except my mistakes don't last as long as hers. They are brief and quickly forgotten. Until I do it again and spend four days beating myself up over being so silly and niave.

In a time when it's supposedly okay for women to do what they want when they want as long as they aren't harming themselves or others, you still have to reach a point where you're okay with it yourself. And I don't think I am.

Only I can sort this out. I need to think before I act. Put a bit more effort into thinking long-term and not just chasing after a fleeting glimpse of something I don't even know where to find.