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I read a treatise from an old Muslim text in one of my classes about the perfect number of wives. Four. One would be too boring, two would constantly be at odds with each other, If you had three two would always be ganging up on one, but if you had four, alliances would shift from time to time, and that much competition would assure harmony.
Four. No wonder they were always involved in holy wars. It was to get away from their wives.
Four. No wonder they were always involved in holy wars. It was to get away from their wives.
Another week, another journal.
Not much has changed. I opened up to a friend and I sort of got dismissed in what seems like the nicest way possible. School is hell. My friends jackass meter has gone up about 9001% too.
Why cant girls be easy to seduce. As a guy, if I get a good steak dinner I'd let the girl do just about anything I wanted, but spending months just getting buried in the friend zone when everyone has like 4 million? Fuck that
How has this gone on so long? -- Week 8 journal
Note: I know nobody probably gives a shit about me, but hell, I'm doing it for myself, to open up to others, and stop scaring people away.
Well, damn, this is probably the longest I have ever done something to try and crawl out of the pit I have been in since mother died at age seven. I've hidden myself inside my planned paths, and I've probably lied too much, but where was I supposed to go? No snowball in hell that I would trust a therapist that has to legally release everything to parents who I will never be able to love. The people at my school have an average IQ in everything except football of about 11.
About the note in the beginning,
Well, shit... I forgot to do week 7
Nothing much happening, spring break so I'm sleeping in, catching up on videogames, reveling in time away from my irl friends. That kind of shit... Ah how I love not having to see her on a daily basis, well, them, both my crushes if having two is possible. They are cometely different in all but gender too which is weird.
Anyway, I gotta go before the fecal matter hit the proverbial rotary impeller device.
Does anyone even care?
I've been doing these "journals" for what, near two months? I would have thought that someone would care, but I guess not..
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