When he walks in the room I be looking at him, he’s got a dick in his pants which makes me like him. He thinks he’s a pimp…..man I liked that song in sixth grade (well the original version). But seriously, is it just me or is it that when he walked into English with his green JanSport bag on that I am like the only person staring at him. It is like my Mr.X radar just goes off and my brain tells my eyes, “Okay eyes move northeast toward the green bag. Now heart and stomach, start running that 5K marathon, full speed, put all that effort.” Then I, the whole Scarlet feel like I’m about 5 seconds aways from passing out. It happened today, and I have to say, I hated the feeling.
You see, my life’s one big contradiction. “To be or not to be, now that is the real question.” I like him yet I abhor him (see how I didn’t say hate). Great, I go off like Hecate, strong and murderous, and I come out like a big pussy who still catches the feels EVERY SINGLE TIME I see him. I mean at times I blame my emotions on my periods, but I have been on my periods for 7 years now, I must have disciplined most of my hormones by now….don’t I? I guess you can get a monkey to play basketball, but you can’t control teenage hormones. Why can’t I just be a savage, throw him to the curb, and move on to the next guy that crosses my path??? But NOOOOOOOO, you just have to be a sentimental freak. I guess it could be that I am a human and not Mother Courage (man imagine if mother courage was a real person, that would seriously be fucked up).
*Mother Courage is a dialectic play written by Bertolt Brecht that I had to read for English and Mother Courage is a stone-hearted lady.