Monday, July 18, 2005

Oh Vanity!

I feel like a fucking peacock. Everytime I strut out my door, out come my technicolor feathers. I have bounce in my steps, I strut like I've got balls Federer could hit around the court. I've become, as most of you could have become accustomed to, the proverbial 20's male.

Like it or not, I seem to have a sudden uncontrolable need to show off. To market myself like a cheap whore flagging attention. At one point in time in my life, and that wasn't that long ago, I used to think that I had no use impressing the fairer sex. Now, I can't stop the hormons oozing from every pore and hole in my body. I don't even need to try. It comes so naturally I feel like crying knowing what I've become. My wallet has stopped wailing.

You know whats really weird? I'm not alone. Every single one of my friends have the same uncontrolable urge to do the same. Everyone, to many degrees and extends, have changed somewhat since the scruffy mornings of university. And its not confined to the males. Even females have that uncontrolable urge too. Maybe its just that time in your life. Where you need to snag your other half before the next bastard/bitch takes him/her.

But what is the point? Whats the point of spending so much time, money, effort, on something that is so unguaranteed? Don't ask stupid questions. Its nature. No one can blame nature. How do you blame something you didn't create and you can't control. Right? Damn beer gut and bald spot. I hate being vain.

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