That's another week in the Pancho

shit,

superdoofus-stratodrive:

sometimes it’s best being single.

i’ve purposely been “off the market” for a year and three-ish months now. and i have to say that my original “single and not looking” phase was only supposed to last one year, but fuckin’ aye if it’s not far better than the hassle of dealing with someone else with issues (and this girl seems rife with them (not to mention a total lacking in the “sense of humor” department, fuuuuuck). i’ll put the odds at ten-to-one that her current boyfriend is either emo or a eunuch).

i’m 32 now, and i’ve (beware the TMI coming up) had plenty of threesomes and been in orgies and have been madly in love and made love to the point of mutual tears and done really weird shit with girls/girlfriends, and i’ve been with girls 10 years my junior and my senior and christ, i’ve lived out plenty of any fantasy. enough so that my “me time” is not fettered by “what if’s” anymore. and sure, i might want some action or even some cuddling or a hug once in while, but those feelings don’t cripple my brain and i’m quite easily past them.

i’m no longer ever “pent up”, nor do i seek any validation from the fairer sex. my placement within society actually has become much like a millpond in the morning; rather still and calm and tranquil.

the spitfires i used to date and have relationships with that would attempt to drown me with words said with bleared and teared eyes that hid the truth of their actual meaning: “i KNOW i’m flawed! and i can’t snap out of this mood right now! tell me to STOP IT/MAKE ME FEEL SPECIAL!”

and the rational ones that executed their devices and tests and quickly surmised incompatibility while i lost interest the moment the tests and devices were deployed. the sword is certainly double-edged in such scenarios.

the casual relationships that started as so much but yet each individual invests more and more into seeming casual about it all.

the few love-at-first-sights that always ended in catastrophe, which could also be described as a train-wreck.

the “i can be happy with her” ones that fizzled out into dust on the wind.

i could go on. strippers are fun because you get lots of threesomes when you go out with them, but they’re nuts and they blabber on more than drama students or hairdressers. 

truth be told, i’m far more contented in the face of all of my concerns while being single than any of my previous endeavours. so i’ll re-iterate:

shit, sometimes it’s best being single.

and so it seems i value autonomy over intimacy. took me long enough to learn, sheesh.

Um Excuse me but....BARF

superdoofus-stratodrive:

antikris:

So some chick that I follow whose writing is not bad just posted this and I am tempted to unfollow her:

“old?

Pretty soon, my “you know you’re 22 when…” posts are going to have to turn into “you know you’re 23 when…” (August 30th. Take note). Sigh…Chrysanthe tells me 23 is just great, but I feel like it’s boring, and I’m phasing out of my youthful/engenue/little genius phase and just becoming normal.”

If 23 is “normal”, what the FUCK am I?  I am sorry, have I misunderstood Tumblr for the hip and “youthful” and not for the “normals” like myself.  God I feel old.  

once you turn thirty, you never have to take seriously anything said by anyone in their twenties ever again. and god damn it’s refreshing because twenty-somethings in new york conduct themselves like they’re freakin’ teenagers.

thecakeisalie: to add to that point, my best friend referred to us ( me and her) as teenagers a few weeks ago, to which I had to remind her that we have been out of high school for seven years, are living on our own and holding down jobs with medical benefits and 401k plans, at 25 we’re nothing close to teenagers, I think she died a little when I burst that bubble…

Dear You Know Who You Are,

Stop trying so hard to not be who you are. No one likes a deceitful pretender.

-Naomi