Rorschach’s Journal. October 12th, 1985: Dog carcass in alley this morning, tire tread on burst stomach. This city is afraid of me. I have seen its true face. The streets are extended gutters and the gutters are full of blood and when the drains finally scab over, all the vermin will drown. The accumulated filth of all their sex and murder will foam up about their waists and all the whores and politicians will look up and shout “Save us!“… and I’ll whisper “no.”

از پست اولم تا به امروز دوازده سال و سه ماه و چند روز گذشته و من همچنان آن تنبلم که بودم.

Apparently the safest and easiest way to achieve a goal, any goal?, is to bullshit your way through it. Too bad I never learnt how to bullshit, otherwise I would’ve made it.

In another life, perhaps I could have been actually good in something. ANYTHING.

A post shared by Mundo Lolita (@mundololita) on May 28, 2017 at 12:58pm PDT

Apparently I am tolerable to some point, superficial mostly. The moment things get a tad bit intimate, the other party (without a single exception, regardless of the nature of the connection) realizes the dull tedious boring monster which has been lurking around, waiting for a chance to attack them.
However that is not the problematic part (troublesome? sure. But I am used to it by now). What bothers me most is the ways they choose to rid of me. In more than one occasion, I was told that they are not into men. “Yay, good for you, I applaud your courage.”. Only to be introduced to their new male partners in a matter of days.
A great number of my friendships ended up with them vanishing in thin air. Out of no where, in a sunny great looking morning, they stopped talking to me.
Again, given the frequency of it, the definitive culprit is me and only me. No argue there.

*Not sure even “Abominability” is a word.

In preparation of Logan, time to brush up and read it again.