I'm beginning to question my ability to either choose potential partners, the possibility that all guys lie, manipulate, and willingly choose to embody selfishness, or a combination of the two (i.e., doom). Like an old friend, I have welcomed the return of cynicism with open arms. However tragic it may be to view the glass as half empty (or dare I say, parched and dry?), at least "half empty" is better than allowing myself to wallow in the ruins yet again before the dawning of another year.
Love is a bitch. The mean, catty kind.
...and the photo-a-day campaign is on a temporary delay as I figure out why my camera is devouring batteries. I have a few from the weekend that I'll try to post. Or won't.
Out tonight with the roommate to see Matthew Perryman Jones again. He's incredible. His love songs are...
I may want to rip out my heart before the night ends.
But his voice...Oh, his voice.