What the hell I wonder, the nail paint from my freshly manicured nails is already chipping off, darn that manicurist, she sure the hell didn’t know what she was doing. The bloody dark black bitch. After all it was worth a lot. I just don’t get a manicure every day you know. Yeah I am cynical, over bored and frustrated with life. Taking out faults with people, bitching about any random person to an invisible audience is what I am best at now days.
I am easily influenced as any one paying even a bit of attention to me makes me feel loved, wanted and everything that’s missing in my life. I use the F-work or hell I use the work fuck a lot and honestly don’t care the fuck about it. Well I am fat, no, not fat, fat are those pregnant ladies, I am a bit obese, not pretty anymore with those crow’s feet forming at my eyes and definitely not a sight for sore eyes, and you know what I really don’t care about that. I don’t care about those who don’t care about me. Hell I think I myself don’t care about me. I am not sixteen anymore and neither have that sexy-to-die-for-waist to fill up those fuckers’ imagination. I am just an old forty year old virgin. I know you must be thinking it’s the title of that stupid movie which finally had a happy ending, but trust me I know my life is no movie, I ain’t getting any oh-so-charming or even just any man to love me for not how I look or behave but for the inner beauty of mine. Ah! I don’t even think it exists anymore. With time everything wears off. Just about everything. Life I tell you.
It’s no bed of roses and for a woman who won’t sleep without any wooing with the male population she meets, well for her it surely isn’t. I don’t care now if I look good or not, I really don’t care if those pan stricken teeth are not leered at me anymore. I really don’t care if there is no groping of my assets in the crowded stations. Life somehow feels easy, you don’t expect anything from anyone and neither does anyone expect anything from you. Suits me just fine.
I know it won’t make a difference if I just disappear, it really won’t. It won’t hurt anyone if I go missing or die, just like the blood trickling down my wrist doesn’t hurt me. It doesn’t make much of a difference. I do feel a bit woozy but so what, just feels like the wine has gone to my head. My vision’s blurring, but it’s not like anyone will cry when I am gone. Ah! Fuck it; I am done living for no one so it’s better to just die for myself.
