miércoles, 3 de julio de 2013

Rule for life

Don´t fucking date a guy who is famous. 

Just don´t. You don´t want to run into his face everyday and/or when you least expect it. You don´t want to be the masochistic bitch who reads all through the first 13 Os in the Google search you just did of his name. 

Don´t be that person. You are better than this person. 

No, I am not. I will google him again. Why? Because I want to. Because I can. You know what you should want to do? Sleep forever and never see his face or hear his name again, that´s what you should do. I want to travel back in time and bitch slap that stupid half smile of my face everytime he wrote. 

LOOK WHAT HE DID TO YOU. No. Look what he didn´t do to you and see what he wouldn´t do for you. He didn´t do it back then, he will never do it. Ever. Ever. You were your most normal self, and where did that get you? 

Get off the Internet. Delete. Escape. Ctrl + Alt + Suprimir. Manzanita + Q. Stop it. 

Stop it, I said. 

I can´t. 

Yes you can, you are just anxious because you are not smoking and bored because you are sick. 

And where was he the last time you were sick? In Caracas, that´s where he was. 15 miles away, and he did nothing for you or your entertainment or your neck. Let. It. Go. 

How do you tweet during a live stream?! How? Damn it. Nina cierra el puto link. Cierra el puto link. 

Vete. 

Vete de aquí. Just fucking shut it down. 

Tuviste tres semanas para hacer esto y no lo hiciste, ¿por qué vienes a joderte así ahorita?

Porque estoy sola, aburrida, enferma y jodida. No lo iba a hacer antes cuando no importaba. No lo iba a hacer antes porque estaba muy ocupada pensando en no fumar. Que flojera pasar el resto de mi vida tratando de pensar en no fumar. 

¿Y si lee? 

Ah, de bolas que va a venir a leer ahorita porque él es así, estúpido. 

Él es estúpido y tú eres una huevona. Match made in heaven, pajúa.  

Don´t fucking date assholes. That´s a good rule for you. Doesn´t matter if they are famous, but it´s just better if they are not.