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| explictxz: u know
explictxz: im accepting the donation
diewitsrichie: oh werd?
diewitsrichie: do you have paypal?
diewitsrichie: hahaha
explictxz: LOL i have hands mother fucka
diewitsrichie: LOL
diewitsrichie: NICE
diewitsrichie: YOU NIGGER
diewitsrichie: LOL
explictxz: LOL
**
I remember when more of my Xanga entries were conversations between friends, rather than entries I write myself. Somewhat a saddening twist to an at first silly entry. | | |
| I see this question posted with some regularity in the personals section, so I thought I'd take a minute to explain things to the ladies out there that haven't figured it out.
What happened to all the nice guys?
The answer is simple: you did.
See, if you think back, really hard, you might vaguely remember a Platonic guy pal who always seemed to want to spend time with you. He'd tag along with you when you went shopping, stop by your place for a movie when you were lonely but didn't feel like going out, or even sit there and hold you while you sobbed and told him about how horribly the (other) guy that you were fucking treated you.
At the time, you probably joked with your girlfriends about how he was a little puppy dog, always following you around, trying to do things to get you to pay attention to him. They probably teased you because they thought he had a crush on you. Given that his behavior was, admittedly, a little pathetic, you vehemently denied having any romantic feelings for him, and buttressed your position by claiming that you were "just friends." Besides, he totally wasn't your type. I mean, he was a little too short, or too bald, or too fat, or too poor, or didn't know how to dress himself, or basically be or do any of the things that your tall, good-looking, fit, rich, stylish boyfriend at the time pulled off with such ease.
Eventually, your Platonic buddy drifted away, as your relationship with the boyfriend got more serious and spending time with this other guy was, admittedly, a little weird, if you werent dating him. More time passed, and the boyfriend eventually cheated on you, or became boring, or you realized that the things that attracted you to him weren't the kinds of things that make for a good, long-term relationship. So, now, you're single again, and after having tried the bar scene for several months having only encountered players and douche bags, you wonder, "What happened to all the nice guys?"
Well, once again, you did.
You ignored the nice guy. You used him for emotional intimacy without reciprocating, in kind, with physical intimacy. You laughed at his consideration and resented his devotion. You valued the aloof boyfriend more than the attentive "just-a-" friend. Eventually, he took the hint and moved on with his life. He probably came to realize, one day, that women aren't really attracted to guys who hold doors open; or make dinners just because; or buy you a Christmas gift that you mentioned, in passing, that you really wanted five months ago; or listen when you're upset; or hold you when you cry. He came to realize that, if he wanted a woman like you, he'd have to act more like the boyfriend that you had. He probably cleaned up his look, started making some money, and generally acted like more of an asshole than he ever wanted to be.
Fact is, now, he's probably getting laid, and in a way, your ultimate rejection of him is to thank for that. And I'm sorry that it took the complete absence of "nice guys" in your life for you to realize that you missed them and wanted them. Most women will only have a handful of nice guys stumble into their lives, if that.
So, if you're looking for a nice guy, here's what you do:
1.) Build a time machine.
2.) Go back a few years and pull your head out of your ass.
3.) Take a look at what's right in front of you and grab ahold of it.
I suppose the other possibility is that you STILL don't really want a nice guy, but you feel the social pressure to at least appear to have matured beyond your infantile taste in men. In which case, you might be in luck, because the nice guy you claim to want has, in reality, shed his nice guy mantle and is out there looking to unleash his cynicism and resentment onto someone just like you.
If you were five years younger.
So, please: either stop misrepresenting what you want, or own up to the fact that you've fucked yourself over. You're getting older, after all. It's time to excise the bullshit and deal with reality. You didn't want a nice guy then, and he certainly doesn't fucking want you, now.
Sincerely,
A Recovering Nice Guy
***
A friend found me this article. Not my work, though I wish it were. | | |
| Do you know that pair of jeans? You know, the pair that you'd wear everyday if it were socially acceptable? It's the pair that feels most comfortable whether they be the pair that hugs tightly to your skin or the baggy pair that allows the soft, cool wind to rise up through the openings located near your ankles on a breezy autumn day. You'd wear this pair of jeans even if it's stained with a bright orange dot caused by a dripping pizza. You and this pair are inseparable. Even when your mother (assuming your mother is still the one who does your laundry) tries to throw "your love" into the laundry basket, you'd sneak in and break her free, prolonging the time she has to leave you. It's this pair of jeans and no other. It's this pair of jeans that makes you wish that all your other pairs can be as snug and as cozy. It's this pair of jeans that makes you wonder why you ever bought a different pair.
Do you remember the first time you bought this pair? Was it on sale? Was it at a department store? Did it catch your eyes the moment you glanced at it? Perhaps you were comparing this article of clothing with another, having an extremely difficult time choosing between them. Was it the one that came in a size too big or a size too small? Or were you lucky enough to ask a sales representative if it came in your size and she actually found it for you?
When you purchased this pair, did you know you would love it now and forever? Perhaps you took an opposite route and had buyer's remorse, regretting the exchange of a couple of dollars (perhaps tons more) for these trousers? Did you want to return it? Or perhaps, like most people, learned to love it by giving it time and that one day, it will grow to be a part of you.
This pair of jeans has been with you almost anywhere, literally. If you browse through your Facebook pictures, surely enough it is this pair that you are wearing. Heck, even your friends can identify you through the slacks you wear. It goes well with all that you wear, even that ugly yellow spotted pink shirt. Yes, even that.
One day, a long period of time since you've made your purchase, you notice a tiny hole near the knee area. It's very minute, nothing major to worry about. Perhaps the hole will not increase in size. Maybe, JUST MAYBE, no one will notice. While walking with a group of friends, one of them spots the hole and points it out to you. He tells you you should throw the pair away because it's getting old and that surely, that hole will grow to be many, many times the size of what it is now. However, your love for this pair is so strong, you cannot possibly throw it away. You ignore your friend's comment and continue your life with the pair of jeans.
Time elapses and seasons change. The hole is definitely noticeable. It causes you trouble. During the summer time, mosquitoes land on that spot and suck the life source, blood, out of your very body. When you take them off, there's a noticeable dark area about the size of the hole while the rest of your leg is of a different shade. Even your mother who washes your clothes chastises you for having such an old pair of jeans. But what are you to do? It's still the same old pair you have known and love, big hole or no hole.
With your love so strong, you use a needle and string to close the distance of the rip. You go over the rip not once, twice, but thrice to ensure that it would not break in the future. With the fix-up, the pair looks much different from what it did when it was first new, but it is bearable. It still feels somewhat comfy and snuggly and cozy. It's not like it was once before. It's not like how it was before.
With time, and not much might I add, your hole reappears. The same divide has occurred all the while breaking a bit of your heart because it cannot be fixed. You try again to patch this hole and yet in a short amount of time, it opens once again. Discouraged, you stop trying. You just wear it out. Wear it out till the day it can't be worn anymore.
What is there to do? How can you have that original pair once again? Can it be possible that you can find it again? Maybe online or at that store? Perhaps it's not worth it to find that original pair.
***
Remember, and remember this: Throughout our lives, we will always have a pair of comfy jeans. When one goes away, eventually another pair will find its way into your life.
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| Why fight for the ones you love and love the ones you fight for when the ones you fight for don't love you and the ones that love you don't fight for you? | | |
| It's the first time I couldn't understand what we had. Was it love? Was it passion? WAS IT ALL A WASTE OF TIME? Now it's HATE. Now it's PAIN. NOW IT'S ALL THIS SHIT COMBINED. I CAN'T force myself to erase all our memories. But when I'm thinking back, I always feel like you've FOOLED me. Nobody to blame but myself from being blinded. Crying in my sleep, HOPING THIS HURTING PASSES BY. I've been told by my [brothers] how these [girls] are all the same. But you had me so convinced that my world suddenly changed. Because you always made me smile, BUT A SMILE ISN'T FOREVER. And I guess it's unpredictable like the change in the weather. I thought we'd work this out like the other times before. But the truth had to reveal, WE CAN'T LIVE A LIE NO MORE. I'm still young and I'm still trying to stay true to my heart. My dreams have disappeared and now my life's scattered apart.. 屌你. 屌你啊! *** Xanga needs bigger fonts. | | |
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