Like, I bitch and complain, cool, others can too. I just hate being around people who constantly put themselves and their lives down.
Because TV shows and books and movies keep chipping away at my heart bit by bit, and soon there will be nothing left.
It started off as a way to sound offhand, like I hadn’t put any thought into my sentence (or I sorta didn’t know how to say what I was trying to say a better way, or felt like I sounded like a bit of a twit saying what I was saying), and it’s just become a thing that ends most of my casual sentences now.
It’ll be nice and hard, because he’s in EVERYTHING (which is what fueled my love of him to start with - he just kept popping up in everything I watched).
In fact, I do this with books, too. I have this ‘Oscar Wilde - Selected Works’ book, and I’ve been very tempted to go through it with a pen or pencil and fix every single mistake in it and then send it back to the publishers because it’s terrible and I had to purchase a whole new copy of The Picture of Dorian Gray just so I could read it without cringing at least once every page.
But then I think of all the sweaty people that would surround me in those mosh pits and I feel so relieved that I don’t have to be anywhere near that.