Was the One; Said No Smart Person Ever

Gender is fluid,  so shut it. I can be a lady for a day, pimp a living hell down. The thing is, I am sick of hearing this thing: she was the one, he was the one, it was the one. Well, it’s a damn modern world, and I am sure as heavens, I have an opportunity to be attracted to anything which satisfies my guilty pleasure. But that will be for another time. And then comes along this other thing called soulmates. I beg your pardon? Forgive my temporarily loss of attention; I was in an imaginary world of cosmic souls penetrating each other, so deeply, and it was lovely. I never wanted to leave, but here I am, listening to an idiot explaining how they nearly ended their life, because their soulmate dumped them. Excuse I for another moment, I need to first come down the voices in my head, which are telling I to punch the idiot in the throat.

Okay, so you were saying? No, wait, I remember: Much as I am in to this thing of humanity and shit pertaining to it, my lines of morality are very blurry. Blurred up by logic and reason, and no, it is not all about justifying shit. Any who, sorry to burst your bubble dear, but if I ever bump into a someone planning to do something super stupid, aimed at destroying their own ways or life, in one way or another, I may most probably offer them a kind and helping hand, for the good of society.

Don’t take I wrong, I will console a someone who is “heartbroken” for a while, as I listen to their story, if I happen to be trapped in a closed compartment with them. Give I reason and logic, as to why you still feel down and totally disappointed, after having been dumped over a month ago? Then you my sweet dear little angel, you will have I, all to yourself. However, if I have ever told you that you are, or being dated by an arsehole, retard, idiot, or a delusional version of a someone, then, I reserve all rights and permission, to mock you around, rubbing it straight into your fucked-up face. Come-on, do you seriously think I get to miss out on such entertainment? Watching you sob and ruining your own life? In such situations, Christmas comes early, and the fat bastard must have read my letters. It is totally worth it.

I know, and I am aware, that the greatest and best thing a someone can offer you, is true love. Fortunately, true love, has been harshly flashed down toilets of many, since we are living in opportunistic societies. Not forgetting about prestige and how we love to be perceived and portrayed by others, there is truly no such thing as the one. I am sure, I would dump you if you got fat. Oh, no wait, what if she was the one? This raises a mystical and strange surrounding: If she was truly the one, okay, let I say my soulmate, she wouldn’t have gotten fat then. And no, that isn’t being shallow minded, it is called having a choice. Better know your preferences.

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