BLOG: Oh Sweet Torture

What am I doing? I have no idea. Ugh!!!!

I have TOO MUCH STUFF!!!! I need someone to help me go through it all. I can’t even with all of this shit right now. That probably explains why I go so upset at Bloody Mary’s the other day I did the digital equivalent of throwing it all in the air out of frustration!

Good luck putting it back in order again! It never even had one in the first place!

It was just like… “What the fuck is even going on right now? Is there something in this drink? Why am I imagining this guy dressed like a Greek God?! WHY DIDN’T THE BOURBON KILL HIM?! WHY IS HE STILL HANGING AROUND?!


If someone out there was thinking about writing fanfiction about Andrew, my advice is: Don’t. It’s not because I want to keep him for myself. It’s because he’s really fucking annoying and I wouldn’t wish this on anybody else, not even my worst enemy, who just so happens to be his real life model? Maybe? I don’t know. This can’t possibly be real. There’s no way this character can be based on that guy. It just doesn’t make it any sense. I don’t know why he keeps telling me he is. This is not that. I know that. I KNOW that.

And as I sat here at my window looking out over my strange little town, I couldn’t help but wonder… Am I actually delusional? Why am I so convinced that this character is not that guy when this character didn’t even exist until I started writing about the bar? I didn’t make this. This entity is not the same as the one I made up before. This is very clearly based on a real person. And that’s really, really, really bad.

I mean, you don’t understand. This can’t be real. It just can’t be. I’m actually like, in love with this character. Like, for real. I’ve never felt this way about anyone else I’ve ever known in my life. None of the others compare to him. They don’t even come close.

[eyes turn into little hearts as she sighs deeply]

Oh sweet Muse, how your divine beauty torments me so. My longing for your touch drives me to insanity. I burn, I pine, I perish! I have never known such pain, such suffering, such sorrow as to be unable to quench my thirst. Please, my dearest, darling Muse, please. I am begging you. Please end this terrible affliction. Please stop torturing me. Please, put me out of my misery at last! I am begging you! PLEASE!

[literally breaks down into tears]

You know it’s real when you start writing like a 16th century poet who saw a beautiful woman once but never spoke to her, only to go on and write an epic poem about their imagined love.

[head desk]

He’s worse now. He’s gone full Immortal on me. Shining gold with the halo and everything. Dressed like a Greek God. I can’t make it stop. Why won’t it stop? Why won’t he just go away?

Anyway. So that’s Andrew for you. Just showing up and ruining my life, like always. Thanks for nothing, yet again.


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