The Great Big Shite World

How strange it all is.

I woke up with a relatively grumpy disposition, slightly hungry, constipated, tired, and pissed off that I didn’t quite understand the Batch Automate function in Photoshop (I do now) and had wasted just about the whole of yesterday choosing and compressing photos from the new SG set individually. I felt bad for whining about why he couldn’t make my life easier and shoot with on a lower resolution. It doesn’t matter of course, but I think the next time I will come up with a proper storyboard, and we will shoot more precisely. Randomness is good, but too much of it doesn’t really help you improve. You’ll end up depending on chance, over what you can actually do.

His business partner told him that there was no future in nude photography, and I can’t stop disagreeing to myself whenever anything at all that can remind me of it flashes in my face. I need to get a little more involved with Suicidegirls, I think I really should. There’s so much going on there I don’t know what the hell I’m missing out on, and that’s bad. Apparently since the start of this year, the comic artist/publisher (or is it both) that gave us the Extra-ordinary league of gentlemen has been working on the first few issues of an SG comic that sounds vague reminiscent of Tank Girl. You know. The ultra anti-feminist heroine; Sexy, strong, and as feminine as they come, that kinda bullshit. Sounds promising.

Yesterday, the ex-ed paramour of one of my girlfriends texted me and asked me how I was doing. To provide a very brief history, he was one of those people that entered our lives in a time when we were both completely blue to fucking around town, and screwed my girlfriend over by doing a Paris Hilton back in the day before the Simple Life, with the bulk of her public exposure shot on a DV camera. It was quite nasty, I must say, but that was then, and it is not in my place to guess whether things have changed, or is he still as immature as he used to be.

Funny I’d be saying something like that, because he used to teach me in school. I don’t know what to say really. We exchanged a few weird text messages, where I basically attempted to extricate some gossip from him because all I was interested in was his predisposition to deceitful behaviour. It’s not nice I know, and I don’t mean it, but I don’t think I’ve ever forgiven him for doing what he did to her. Or for behaving the way he does.

I want to know why.

Why are some people so deceitful? Why must they cheat, why sleep around, is it SO hard to know what you want and NOT waste the lives of other people.

The more I think about it, the more I know what faithfulness matters so much to all of us, even me. Oh I will admit I enjoy the occasional ménage a trios, and I haven’t had one for ages (no matter anyway, because the only girl I’d like to have it with has left the country for greener pastures –literally) but when someone sleeps around your back and you find out, it’s not so much the act that matters but the absolute lack of consideration for the other person, who now feels lied to.

Actually, fuck it. What do I know. How do I know how people feel after they have been together for years and years. But if my parents are an example, you don’t get bored with each other if you’ve got the right person. You just don’t.

xoxox