miniver I used to tell Jack that "I don't believe in making apologies, and I am not obligated to accept any". (Actually, I suppose it was more like "...and, from now on, I have decided that I'm not going to be obligated to accept any".) And I had some sort of believable anti-apology argument to go with it, too. It was all a part of some greater conversation we were having, and the expulsion of the need for 'formal apologies', I guess, was the conclusion at which I arrived. So, yeah, I kept up with that theory for awhile, and, every so often (if I remembered), I would remind people not to apologize to me.

But, I don't remember the arguments anymore. I can't seem to reconclude that same conclusion. Apologies are fine. I mean, sure, they only go so far (not very), but they do serve a certain purpose. And, otherwise, who really has the energy to think about them that much?

So, I'm wondering if the whole thing was, like, a "Special Theory of Anti-apology", applicable only to a theoretical, and obviously highly unstable, Jack Universe...
d humans are very messy 000925
Barrett Amen to that!
Few people understand the concept of
"Don't shit where you eat."
caws moze Look at that, you made a mess. You made me a mess. You tore me apart, limb from limb. You ate away at my smile until i refused to show it to anyone.
I tried to do everything to make you happy. Youre too self-centered to realize what ive done for you, everything i could possibly do for you. You made me a mess.

eklektic after we came back from the diner, we went home and sat on my family room couch. we made out like we always do. and he said he had to go to he bathroom. he had been drinking a lot of coffee. he stayed forever in the bathroom and i wondered if he was alright. he came back, kissed my forhead and said "i wouldn't have wanted it to get too messy in here", with a dirty grin.

now i wonder how many times he's jacked off in my bathroom.
randomly recent ! 040124
devalis her messy room
reflect her soul, her innner workings
down in the core, upon the floor
we don't know where it

technicolor bras, a flag
of truth
hot pink, aqua, gold
the too-big cups
reveal fuck-ups
her story lies here, told

words too hard
to fill the spaces
open, dark and bare
empty, sullen barren places
just like her blackened stare

tissue paper fills the holes
she's safe without a feel
but here's her fear, you'll get too near
and know it isn't real
illusionary_reality synchronise it nicely so it fits in the jumble.
sweep it all neatly under the rug, where it aught to be.
what's it to you?
who go