Starving Under The Fig Tree

oh yeah? could a depressed person do THIS? *sends an email*

where the fuyck is the clown music coming from

You

*walks past a group of men* wow the ground is so interesting the floor is facisnating…love dirt and also concrete…sidewalks amaze me

this is such a sad reality omg

*A woman walks past me and a group of my friends* wow i wonder why she’s looking a the ground. I bet she’s deep in thought. I wonder what She’s thinking about. She’s so pretty. I bet she’d reject me if i talked to her. I want to talk to her. I want to talk to her. I should talk to her. I’m not going to talk to her. Wow I’ve been starring at her for like a minute. She’s probably creeped the fuck out. I wish i wasn’t so fucking creepy. Why dont woman like me. Why don’t woman like me. Why don’t women like me. *Has a small panic attack* I’ll never find love. I’ll never find love. I dont deserve love. I want to use. I want to drink.

bro u the exact reason theyre lookin down

I know.

then maybe stop being a freak

Funny how in that entire book they managed to make everything about men who stare at women rather than the actual women who go through this shit every day. Men just look at women in relation to themselves and this fucking loser’s inner monologue is a perfect example of how, in their personal reality, it’s a dude Woody Allen-ing himself into either sexiness or degradation while women just try to live their lives. There’s always some fucking weirdo either convincing himself he’s the love of your life or a predator hunting you while you’re just walking home from work.

me [calling mall security]: check your security cameras right now mall security: there’s a guy doing squats, but I don’t see much- me: yea that’s me, critique my form