tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-57058586214531877312011-04-21T18:37:44.556-05:00Contemptible Acornhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12966128078907639464noreply@blogger.comBlogger21100tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5705858621453187731.post-30625060397363285882009-02-02T15:39:00.004-06:002009-02-02T15:45:46.080-06:00<span style="color: rgb(0, 204, 204);">Today, I suddenly realized that there will never be anything between us. There's nothing there. No point in hoping anymore. It's obvious that I only vaguely exist in your world. <br /></span><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5705858621453187731-3062506039736328588?l=contemptibleacorn.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>Contemptible Acornhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12966128078907639464noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5705858621453187731.post-47206394242199219702008-05-12T12:09:00.002-05:002008-05-12T12:29:51.206-05:00<p class="MsoNormal"> <span style="font-family:verdana;">In the first grade, my best friend sneezed on me. Angered by the magnitude of disrespect she had displayed towards me, I promptly ended our relationship. Since that time, karma has maintained its own special place with its teeth firmly implanted in my butt.</span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family:verdana;"><span style=""> </span><span style="font-family:verdana;">Now, as a seventeen year-old, I found myself wholly friendless–a state that I had been in for years.</span><span style="font-family:verdana;"> </span><span style="font-family:verdana;">Despite my best efforts, I was unable to be anything more than that strange girl in class with the mismatched eyes and the blank stare.</span><span style=""> </span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family:verdana;"><span style=""> </span><span style="font-family:verdana;">To make matters worse, my lack of human contact had quite frankly resulted in habits that were unsettling, bordering on illegal.</span><span style="font-family:verdana;"> </span><span style="font-family:verdana;">Sure, it’s all well and good when you hang around the local mall with your legal pad taking notes on its inhabitants–the skanks, the loudmouths, the “rebellious” punks, the people trying to hide fat rolls under some poor little girl’s Barbie clothes.</span><span style="font-family:verdana;"> </span><span style="font-family:verdana;">Oh, but then when you just happen to take in an interest in that hot guy in your school with the confident swagger and decide to bring to his attention your unrelenting, </span><b style="font-family: verdana;">undying</b><span style="font-family:verdana;"> love by unselfishly sending gift after gift and standing outside his house in silent reverence, </span><i style="font-family: verdana;">THEN</i><span style="font-family:verdana;"> the words “complete psychopath,” “restraining order,” and “calling the cops” come in to play.</span><span style=""> </span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family:verdana;"> And so, the police came to my house and began sternly lecturing me on the illegality of things such as “stalking” and “harassment,” as if my harmless devotion were something twisted. Of course, my mother, being the status-obsessed, liposuctioned, faux-blonde bimbo that she is decided it necessary to protect the family’s honor (as if nouveau riches have any). After the transfer of a fairly sizeable sum of hush money to my beloved’s family, my mother then decided it would be necessary to send the source of embarrassment away to a place where it could not cause harm.</span><span style=""><span style="font-family:verdana;"> </span> </span><o:p></o:p></p><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5705858621453187731-4720639424219921970?l=contemptibleacorn.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>Contemptible Acornhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12966128078907639464noreply@blogger.com0