Milanos Aren't Enough in The Stuff That's Not Interesting But Is The Most Interesting Stuff I'll Write

I might type this really poorly because I’m typing it in my class, and I sit next to this hot Persian guy with a huge package in his bicycle shorts, and he constantly plays with it, so I’m always distracted. “Follow the bouncing ball(s)!”

Reading about everyone’s Halloween debauchery has made me even more depressed about mine. I don’t really celebrate Halloween the way other people do because it also happens to be my birthday. This year, I had the most depressing birthday I’ve had in over twenty years.

I was supposed to go with my straight guys on a crazy roadtrip to LA, go to a rave, see my friends and basically relive the more ridiculous times of my twenties. Needless to say, that didn’t happen. I ended up getting called in to work, and therefore, at the last minute had nothing to do. Everyone else had already made plans, and nobody seemed to want to include me in their plans.

On October 31, 2015, the day I turned thirty-two, I sat at home and went to bed at 8:15 in the evening alone.

I have never allowed myself to feel lonely in a real kind of depth, but it felt really sad to have no one in my life who really cared about me. My brothers were off doing their own respective things, my friends were gone or out with significant others. And I sat at home with a bag of Pepperidge Farms cookies.

Fuck that. Things have got to change because that is bullshit.