There are times when I’m alone that I think, this is it. This is actually the natural state. All I need are my thoughts and my small acts of creation and my ability to go or do whatever I want to go or do. I am myself, and that is the point. Pairing is a social construction. It is by no means necessary for everyone to do it. Maybe I’m better like this. Maybe I could live my life in my own world, and then simply leave it when it’s time to go.”
― David Levithan, The Lover’s Dictionary
It occurred to me that maybe I was born to be alone.
Just a few days ago, I got really into this very catchy song by Kate Nash (my new favourite artist, by the way). It’s called Merry Happy. It might be my new very own life anthem. The lyrics goes
I can be alone, yeah, I can watch a sunset on my own. I can be alone.
Maybe pairing really is a social construction. I remember reading something from the Bible which says that if you can, don’t marry at all. Maybe I can.
Now the thing about me is, I really like babies. I want my own baby. I can’t just get myself pregnant with some random dude on the street and be all like “hey I’m not married, but I’d really like a baby so can you, like, give me some of your sperm or something?” No. That would be slutty. And that’s just gross. So because of this, I kind of made a Plan B, which is kind of obvious by now, I guess.
Adoption! I don’t really know much about it, but I’d like to adopt a baby in the future. I just watched the movie Juno (Michael Cera, Ellen Page) the other day. It’s about this teenage girl who got preggers by accident. She didn’t want to keep the baby, of course, because she was only in highschool. This married woman who couldn’t have babies adopted the highschool girl’s baby. They just agreed on it. I mean, with help from a lawyer and all that. Maybe I should do that as well. Wait, I don’t know what I’m saying right now, but I’ll consider doing that if all else fails, you know?
By the way, I just finished reading The Fault in Our Stars. I made a post about it on my Tumblr account. I rated it 3/5, if you’re curious. Everything I want to say about the book is on the Tumblr, yo! Except for this: the story will make you think about things like what is the last book I’m going to read? Will I make it to the end of the book? I wonder. Will I be able to read all of Chuck Palahniuk’s books? Will I finish the book I am currently reading? It’s one of the sad things about dying. Your life might end slowly or abruptly. It’s sad either way because, well, your life is ending.
This made me remember Banana Yoshimoto’s short novel Hard Luck. In that one, though, the question is what is the last song am I going to listen to? In the story, it says that the last song you listen to will have to be sort of related to your death. I wonder if the last song I listen to would have some relation to my death. I just hope I don’t listen to anything stupid around the time I die.
Also, I wrote short poems. But I will not let you read them all. Maybe just one because I am a really bad poet and I know nothing about poetry:
I seek a confident mouth
With an honest breath.
Barely able to utter lies
Made to tell even
The most painful truth
With words of comfort and assurance.
A mouth that carries stories
That are yet to unfold
And that still linger-
In this mouth lies a rock
Which I will wrap around my finger.
For some reason, I feel embarrassed when writing poems and letting others read it, especially when the readers get it. It’s kind of like posing naked in front of people and saying hey, this is all I got. Something like that. I find it humiliating. Maybe it’s because I’m not sexy, and I just really suck at poetry.