flecks.

sometimes i wish i wouldn't give people so many chances.

i was going to go into depth and detail my dream boy, but then i realized... i really do not want to get into that. it's far too complicated. i do not want any assumptions to be made, but i just want to put it out there that i am seeing trends and it really creeps me out sometimes. hobbies and interests and styles and attitudes and habits and idiosyncrasies and talents. it makes me wonder if whenever i meet a boy and start to like him, i have a sixth sense that tells me he is just like any boy i have liked previously. then i find out that he really is, and it amazes me, and creeps me out at the same time, and makes it that much worse. or better. i can't really tell. maybe one day i will put that on here. i don't really like talking about this, though.

basically, i just want someone to hold my hand. or just, me, in general. cuddling would be nice. or genuine flattery. even if just from a friend.

anyhow. my friend today said 'it's such an ugly day out,' and it got me thinking. who decides what is ugly weather and what is not? i know plenty of people who would have said today was a lovely day out, to the contrary. it made me wonder, what is the deciding factor on whether a day is nice or not? is it the fact that the weather may possibly make one feel slightly uncomfortable? is it the discomfort that drives one to say it is an ugly day, or is it the fact that something else has made one feel anything at all, and added to possibly an infinite number of other things already on one's mind or already irritating one's skin or cheeks? some people would then take this and say, "i have closed off all of my feelings and emotions, but look, this weather makes me feel something again, thus being i like this weather." or some could say, "i have closed off all of my feelings and emotions, but look, this weather makes me feel something again, thus being i hate this weather." or some could possibly just think, "oh, i left my coat at home and it is chilly. i hate this weather. i hate goosebumps." or some could just think, "it is normal not to like this weather, thus being i do not like this weather."

norms are so intriguing. it is normal to talk about weather, for small talk. i must be normal, then. in my sophomore year in high school, in my biology class, we had taken a survey/test to see what side of the brain we were on, left or right, artistic or analytic. i was the only person in the class who was perfectly symmetrical. even on both sides. half and half. right down the middle. my biology teacher called me mediocre. that was the worst thing i had ever been called. never mind the nine or ten years of teasing for other reasons, namely my physical appearance. mediocre. of course, he took it back right away and claimed it was a joke. but really? mediocre? painful. i guess maybe i am. after all, i'm talking about boys and the weather.