Some people never learn to grow up. It pisses me off. Makes me mad. Makes me consider throttling them.
I've been attacked by wild animals.
I've been run over by a fedex truck.
I've been lost in the city with no food, water or money at 2 PM on a Saturday-utterly exhausted, sore from being run over, and on a damaged bike.
I've ridden 20 miles and had my brakes fail, hitchhiked, gotten completely lost and missed my friend's performance.
And the most I ever took away, besides a damaged ego, was a short break to stop from shaking.
I cry. A lot. But mostly when I'm alone.
What I take away is a sense of defiance. I'm not a weakling, I tell myself.
It's everyone around me who is.
It's everyone around me who is, and there is nothing I can do about it. I'm the Vriska to their Tavros. I'm the puppeteer. It is me and I am it.
Some people need to learn their strings are being jerked for a reason: to teach them to grow up. And some of these slow brats still don't get it even if you tell them so.
A baby is a child, not someone over 21. Yet my friend acts like one. I just told him so and he's throwing a hissy fit and calling my dad. I don't care. Go ahead. Your move, but I never end this sort of ship in a stalemate.