You've gotta tie yourself to the mast my friend

I haven’t got angry; yet. I could though be be described as a cold fish, but hey, i could also be described as a man in a girls body so its all no big deal. He’s walked away, again, that, i suppose is why i’m writing this post. Although i must admit, i’m drunk, so its coming out slowly and with plenty of spelling mistakes (thank god for spell checker, its my life line tonight).

I’ve had enough platitudes for the evening, the way of the world is to get dumped, get drunk, get over it; so that is philosophy i’m following. A night out with some male friends was a good tonic.

Life goes on, so hey, what now, what is there for me? Do i get my short skirt and heals back on, get out there and have some ‘fun’ with inappropriate men and more inappropriate 30 year old women who think tits and ass is appropriate dress. And then there is the men that want that kind of woman.

I am not that kind of woman.

I cant be that kind of woman.

I am not that kind of woman, i’m not high maintenance, i do boy behaviour, i do obsessive sex that eventually fades to nothing, i do football chat, i do sci-fi, i do what ever the hell you challenge me to do, i do drinking till we all cant stand. I don’t do preening, awkward behaviour, hair flicking. But i do do 4 inch heals, gorgeous, glamorous girl.

I am a contradiction.

Maybe i should be high maintenance but i am not.

One day ill find the man who doesn’t give a shit about what i am and what i am not.

One day ill be fucking happy.

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