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I swear, I am the stupidest moron on the face of the planet right now. I would slap me if I believed in self-punishment or thought it would help, but my gosh...I am dumb.
...'I don't want to talk about it'...That's what I frikkin' said, the actual words that caused this little pity party. Imbecile.
The depths of my own stupidity stagger me at times...
If I hadn't realized just how badly I shoved my foot in my mouth, this wouldn't - well, no, of course I wouldn't. Ignorance of the fact and all that.
...Lord, help me, this your idiot child. Because seriously, I don't even know what's wrong with me. You know. You made me, and before You did, You must have looked at the moment and just rolled Your eyes. But seeing that, You still decided to go ahead with the plan to see me born, moronic though I may be. And seeing as You are the One Who made all things glorious, made me, and re-made me, I must be glorious as well. Although I obviously am not anywhere near the level You would have me to be yet because...'I don't want to talk about it.'
To pull an Adam and Even type flavor, he really should have made it clear what exaxtly 'it' was. I shouldn't have listened though, and tried to understand rather than giving him the brush off. But...I couldn't help it. Gold teeth creep me out. I mean, they really do. When have gold teeth ever represented something good? Gangsters have gold teeth. Pirates have gold teeth, if they even have teeth. Rappers, and I don't like them either.
And his name is Jimmie. I have yet to meet anyone - Jimmy Needham doesn't count; he's just a singer whose music I enjoy - by that name who was anything but trouble. That's completely not fair though. It's really not.
But see, that's me putting the blame off on something/one else when I'm at fault too, and to a greater extent because those things don't control me. I control me, and how stuff affects me. So it's on my head.
And I am so surprised I don't know more words for stupid.
Oh! Stupido! Yeah, there's one. Gettin' bilingual with it now. But whatever. An idiot by any other name...
"I don't want to talk about it"?!?!?!
...'I don't want to talk about it'...That's what I frikkin' said, the actual words that caused this little pity party. Imbecile.
The depths of my own stupidity stagger me at times...
If I hadn't realized just how badly I shoved my foot in my mouth, this wouldn't - well, no, of course I wouldn't. Ignorance of the fact and all that.
...Lord, help me, this your idiot child. Because seriously, I don't even know what's wrong with me. You know. You made me, and before You did, You must have looked at the moment and just rolled Your eyes. But seeing that, You still decided to go ahead with the plan to see me born, moronic though I may be. And seeing as You are the One Who made all things glorious, made me, and re-made me, I must be glorious as well. Although I obviously am not anywhere near the level You would have me to be yet because...'I don't want to talk about it.'
To pull an Adam and Even type flavor, he really should have made it clear what exaxtly 'it' was. I shouldn't have listened though, and tried to understand rather than giving him the brush off. But...I couldn't help it. Gold teeth creep me out. I mean, they really do. When have gold teeth ever represented something good? Gangsters have gold teeth. Pirates have gold teeth, if they even have teeth. Rappers, and I don't like them either.
And his name is Jimmie. I have yet to meet anyone - Jimmy Needham doesn't count; he's just a singer whose music I enjoy - by that name who was anything but trouble. That's completely not fair though. It's really not.
But see, that's me putting the blame off on something/one else when I'm at fault too, and to a greater extent because those things don't control me. I control me, and how stuff affects me. So it's on my head.
And I am so surprised I don't know more words for stupid.
Oh! Stupido! Yeah, there's one. Gettin' bilingual with it now. But whatever. An idiot by any other name...
"I don't want to talk about it"?!?!?!
