of relationships and fucking them up

by justine

after a spontaneous hiatus (more of a passing zephyr of indifference rather than a calculated leave of absence) i have not one rambling soliloquy, but two! (if you can actually quantify those pesky nouns.)

i think there’s only so much you can push, threaten, lecture, plead, beg, bargain and beseech someone who isn’t interested in your help. methinks some individuals thrive on the mental anguish that comes hand-in-hand with those putrid-from-the-inside-out type relationships, while some of them imagine themselves “in love” and others probably enjoy the masochistic pleasures they derive from being ridiculed and belittled and trodden all over like a doormat. i figure there’s no point trying to figure out the how’s and why’s since it’s of no help at all. every reason they throw out seems to defy all known human logic.  just like there is no point lending an ear or trying to counsel those repeat offenders. you finally start wondering why you are expending so much time and energy fretting when they obviously don’t feel the same.  it all boils down to a combination of personal choice + waking the fuck up + reaching breaking point that will finally snap them the fuck out of the hell they’ve chosen to reside in.

who the fuck am i to have an opinion? well, i have lived through 4 years of it and while i’ve survived, i have no objective data to add to behavioural research findings. i have so much material, i could write a fucking thesis on it. but strangely enough, i have no answers.

so, fuck that shit. fuck it in the face. big girls can make their own damned decisions and all the WAO propaganda in the world will not make a damn difference. we can only cross our hearts and hope that it all turns out for the best.

then there’s that other more close-to-home incident which made me revisit my friendship protocols. JT  taught me indifference is (as a general rule) the best medicine. i’ve obviously not achieved his godlike status yet, but i’m learning. one success, in fact, is not replying pointless messages sent by so-called friends.

the rules are simple:

you walk out of my life abruptly, voluntarily, and without duress. the end.

you take advantage of my generousity/my love/my friendship. the end.

and lastly, largely inspired by today’s events, you make me 吃死猫. the end.

doesn’t seem that hard a rule set to follow, but apparently not many can. oh fucking well, right? too fucking bad. what-fucking-ever.