Everybody's Indulged With The Rare Commodity A Choice Is.

Girls may polish off lotta things, bizarre ones as well. But that boys [no reason to call 'em men] swallow, choke, sup, swig'n'scoff EVERYTHING, struck me most. They don't cut the mustard. I should have known it earlier. Then, my life would be that lotta easier. The formula is: buy a car, serve beer n stick your bottom in the air. In a quarrel, they let a girl to verbalize all her arguments n thoughts n what-she-wants-to-say-abouts, spicing it all up with a solemn acceptance, adding a dash of humbleness n humility. The next step is to ask a fake-revieve question usu. concerning 'em, double su***rs. N from all the wisdom of the world they are really gonna believe in all the crap that she [the feminine particle]will have said, just as if they did not suspect anything biased after what they've just experienced. Like the girl's immerse willingness for an immediate finish of the bulllshit crap-talk wasn't blatant enough. Maybe the other girls don't do it this way. Maybe they don't make their beloved an inferon. Perhaps, they are not of this kind? Or maybe for the good sake of this argument let us suppose that there is a second, deeper bottom for such way of action. Yeah, yeah, let yourself indulge with conjectures, Maria. You already know which of the above is the right one... Then, there is a sudden thought crossing my mind: are all these thoughts real, worth fighting for, worth all the pain n battle dust, or are they maybe just exaggerated Ms. Proud Linguist thinking over doses? I embark on pondering then, whether my point of vistas is the rightuous one, the more true [or to the truth] than his. What is his opinion, the real thing he's hiding inside before me in his head, his reflections? Am instatnly down the sec I'm realising it that maybe there are some backdoors I know nothing abut he's used, nonetheless [what a beautiful n useful word that saves all wise n material girls from unappriopriate deductions], the very next thought, rushing with smashing speed, just roaring in my skull, destroying all the grey cells that dared to beautifully weave the afore thoughts - does he have any?? Or maybe it's suffice to say that everybody doesn't want to admit I'm following the right path which they are seeking but cannot damn find? The not-so scientific on day basis research transpires that I'm dooin it rite. Or pretend they don't see the obivious that's lying in front of their eyes? Or perhaps these are egoistic repercusions of being a spoiled, luscious girl? N who is to tell the truth? Will I, will we ever know? Or is everybody dumb for it being shout out loud everyday? Or maybe it does reqire a change to get to know the truth n in order to do that you have to bend yourself to the current standards of flatness seasoned with averageness? This, however, I will have not even give a try, cos not only does it carry a too dramatic change, but also nobody will ever believe that I have altered myself in their terms. Oh, n it must entail narrowing of one's horizons, what in my case is fckngly unlike doable. N ultimately: do the thoughts come out from outwhere? No, they have to be supported with sth profoundly thought-out. In the same vein, when I speak out all of it that has been generated in my mind loud , I speak the very truth of mine. If I never hear what you have to say in this issue, it feels like I don't have any insight nor bases for putting my trust in you, ur lika tissue. I think, to cut long story short, that's all for now. Just for the record: if you stayed over, I'd make it so sweet, from your head to your feet...