It happens every weekend, the urge to/not go out. A scene out of a cheesy cartoon is played every time, the one with the main character having a miniature angelic version of himself on one shoulder (usually the right), and the opposite on the other. Perhaps that was a bad example, it has nothing to do with moral... I'm not too extreme, I drink moderately most of the time and hardly ever smoke anything. Even if it wasn't that way, I still wouldn't care much. But there's a side of me that needs to go out and bask in attention, and another that begs (as its palms run rivers of sweat) that I stay home away from groups of people.

No matter which choice is made, I never end up content. Should I have gone out? Should I have stayed in? Èither way I stay home or come home with a bittersweet taste in my mouth and a discomfort I cannot shake off. My boyfriend calls it "the friday night syndrome", he feels something along those lines too... Birds of a feather do flock together, or something.

I don't want to be alone, yet right now i feel like biting someone's head off.

Oh, good ol,' reliable Nutang... I always come back when things aren't too good. -- Next time I promise to write about fluffy bunnies, unicorns, rainbows and the skittles that rain from them.

If it did not have anything to do with moral than the analogy would not have popped into your head. I think should've called me over so we could hang out.
» Dilated on 2007-04-14 03:58:53

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