Wednesday, November 12, 2008

I love my lips.

I have pen on my lip.
Well, I mean, I don't right now. But I did.
I walked into the bathroom to wash my face, and little did I know, I needed it. I had pen on my lip.
How many people have I seen with pen on my lip, none of which bothered to let me in on the fact that it looked like a smurf had soiled my skin? How frustrating is that?!
I haven't used a pen all night long. I haven't. I have been on my laptop all night long. So it's been there, on my lip, just breeding and bleeding and growing bigger for I don't know how long.
The greater question here isn't why people didn't tell me. It's who are these people?! Why do I keep them around?
Which brings me to my point. Why have friends if they won't tell you if you have pen on their lip? What's the purpose? I mean, everything else is null and void if your friends won't tell you that you have pen on your lip. Friends are supposed to be there for you when you need them the most. Is there ever a greater moment than when you have pen on your lip? I think not.

I've been having issues recently. You know, the type of 'work through them myself,' 'I don't need any help,' 'I'd rather not talk about it," kind of issues. But the truth is, all I want to do is talk about it. It's all I want to do all day long because then it's not trapped inside my head.
So it's fair to say that my first thought when I saw the pen on my lip was Shakespearean. I wanted to start shouting "Out damn spot! Out I say!" Thankfully, I didn't. I mean, I wiped it off and then resorted to the complex that I am having now. But still, it's a sad moment.
Not nearly as sad as the moment when you realize that your friends won't tell you that you have pen on your lip. That's heartbreaking.

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