#coming4u

October 11th 2017

10:25pm

Thank you for following me porn blog. Why are you following me? Do you have a soul? Do porn blogs have souls?

So today, I was like: “Eh... maybe I shouldn’t.” but I did. I went and looked at Amy Cortez’s Facebook™ profile.

There she is. Still playing soccer for freaking Princeton. Still looking capital R ripped. Still earning accolades on some nation wide honor roll. The other day I was going through my old journals and I came across a rambling post about Amy Cortez. How the boys would fawn over her in grade eight art class. “Amy, talk to me.” “Aimee look at this funny thing I did.” “Amy! I pulled one of my eyes brain and attached it to the back of my head so I can stare at you all the time. Notice me!”

In grade 7 or something after Amy won some major academic award I posted something horrendous on The Facebook™ like: “Wow! Congrats to tag:Amy Cortez on the major award. Either all of us need to try harder or I think we’ve found our 2020 head girl.”

She was our head girl.

That wasn’t the most infuriating part though. The part that really tickled under my skin and made me draw doodles of her in my notebooks where I was the cool underground rebel was how goddamn happy she was.

I kid you not, there was no emotional/mental turmoil as far as the optical and hot-gossipical lens could perceive.

Always smiling, warm, trustworthy, supportive, attentive, energetic, athletic, academic, a talented trumpet player...blonde! She wants to be molecular engineer for goodness sake!

At some award ceremony a teacher said “Whatever she has we should bottle it and sell it.” What am I? Freakin’ discount baby oil?

No one disliked her. Except my one friend Bailey who found her obnoxious. I always defended Amy though. Maybe if I did that I would rise to her level.

I was valedictorian. Of course that didn’t matter. I won other awards. Whatever fumschmever. Did it matter that Amy said she admired me too? OF COURSE NOT- **SCOFF** get out of here!!!

Do I want to be her? Not if it meant giving up what I’ve got. Do I want what she has? Yes....

I suppose though, what I really want is to live up to my own expectation.

I want to grind hard, and smile while I’m doing it.

While Amy is out floating in the stars, I want to reach up and touch them.

Side story:

I saw a homeless lady on the street the other day. She was crying, so I felt sympathy and decided I would listen to her.

I crouched down.

Her tears looked almost plastic, the way they had crusted underneath her eyes. Her hair was chopped short and she was missing most of her teeth, parts of her gums purple.

The woman regaled me with her tale.

“Ma’am. I’m homeless and three months pregnant. I’m trying to raise twenty dollars to buy a tent, food, and clothes.”

“Well. I can’t give you cash, but I’ll buy you some food.”

With a puckered pause and then a sigh, she began again:

“Ma’am. I’m homeless and three months pregnant. I’m trying to raise twenty dollars to buy a tent, food, and clothes.”

“Like I said, I’m not going to give you twenty dollars, but I’d be happy to buy you some food for you if you were interested.”

“ALRIGHT! FUCK OFF!”

I felt tears come up just under my lower eyelids, stood up and walk away. I was #shook