Love is Blindness-why we do the things we do

Helpless

Helpless

Heres whats going to happen to us. Imagine someone attractive approaches us, and we think what the f**k? Were so uncomfortable with ourselves, so unsure of our own likeability that any attention from others just doesnt seem right. Were like little f**king rabbits caught in cars headlights. It freaks us out, we freeze, we dont know where the f**k to turn, what to do or say. We havent earned or deserve it, so we try to bury our heads in the sand, playing ostrich while we pretend it isnt happening, not to us anyway.

Our admirer obviously has issues. If they like us, there has to be something wrong with them because we know that whatever we do, theyll figure us out sooner or later so rather than have them hurt our feelings, its better to run away and hide. Yes, were that f**king stupid.

Now what happens (yup, we got it) another night home and alone. It doesnt matter how much we want to be hugged or cuddled. We genuinely believe that no one, other than a demented Smurf, would want anything to do with us. We know were not good enough for them, so whats the catch?

But, if we tried, just for a moment, to come to grips with our verging on brain dead idiocy, call it whatever the f**k we like, we'd realise that the person paying undue attention to us isnt warped, doesnt have any humps or bumps that shouldnt be there, and is perfectly capable of seeing us for who we are.

Yes, they may have noticed some of our less than admirable traits, but so what? Its no big deal. They know, sure as God made little green apples, that being a bit bent out of shape, slightly buckled, or bruised, applies to almost everyone, not just to us, and you know what, they dont give a f**k.

We might not know who or what we should or want to be, but that doesnt mean were as useless or unwanted as a pieces of driftwood. A bit odd perhaps, maybe not as likable as we could be. Actually, were a bit of f**ked up, but then, who isnt?