harmless.

image credit: butterflyutopia.com

I'm not anymore.

I've come back quite rejuvenated, despite the miniature heart attack I had earlier. I'm more focused than ever and less willing to tolerate any form of bullshit that comes my way. While I might have my own set of insecurities, I am not a scapegoat for yours. If you have a problem with your boyfriend, take it up with him. If you have a problem with your boyfriend talking to me, I don't want him. I have my own, thanks.

Get off my case, and fuck off.

I'm not rebounding off anyone, despite what the confessions page might try to point in my direction. I have issued a challenge, it's true. The person I used to be wanted to fight conflict quietly, behind the scenes but I realize in a communications college where everyone is spinning their own image and attempting to maintain some degree of pseudo-professionalism, I am not going to take kindly to threats, accusations or ego trips. I will confront you if I have a problem. The only people I won't are the ones I can't reach - but then again, since I'm living life under a microscope now, my Twitter has taken to becoming a battlefield. I am a poet, by nature. Words are my weapons, to paraphrase George Wielgus. The pen will perpetually be mightier than the sword (despite my love of war).

Other than that, I have no time to deal with your penis insecurities either. I don't really care if I'm The Ex - the one you will never get over in this lifetime. I don't care if you're pining away secretly or battling some mixed emotions warring in your head. If you have a girlfriend and you're not leaving her, could you just stay with her, please. You chose her over me for a reason. If that's a shitty reason and you're having a bad time in your relationship, it's not my problem. If there's no basis for a relationship foundation and it's rocky and you need someone to get your mind off things, I don't think I'm your girl. For the love of God and all that is holy on this green Earth, buy yourself a Fleshlight if you're sexually repressed. You're dating a virgin, you chose this. Stop complaining. Sex with me was a chore anyway (to you).

I am not your fallback girl.

If you're going to perasan and terasa all my tweets, grow a pair and stop crying for mommy on Twitter. I get angry from things I hear from other people. I also decide that said people should die by getting hit by a speeding bus. However, I don't actually drive the bus. If you think I'm calling you out on something, please ask me. Those are my tweets. I won't be vague and tell you that "if the shoe fits..." - because your moral dilemmas aren't my concern. I don't control how you interpret things unless I'm the voice in your head, and I doubt there's any room for mine there. If I have become the voice in your head, you've obviously forgotten how I sound.

Stop harassing my boyfriend, thank you.