fuck toothbrushes.
I love brushing my teeth. I love it so much, I learned how to brush my teeth and answer the phone at the same time.
I'm very sensitive about other people brushing their teeth, about what my mouth feels like right after I have woken up. when I'm meeting people or going out grocery shopping or this or that, I will always clean my teeth first.
my mom has bad teeth and is afraid of the dentist, so she taught me how important it is to always brush, three times a day. I've never had a single cavity all my life.
so this is hard for me, saying "fuck you" to an object I love so much.
fuck you, toothbrushes.
it's kind of a "don't think about pink elephants"-issue.
I might be in love, and I don't know much about the person or her single/dating-status.
so I take a closer look at the things surrounding her and her roommate.
like the fact that they are two people living together who have four toothbrushes.
whatever.
me and my roommate were both single once and had, like, eight toothbrushes.
suck it up.
t. picks me up from the airport and tells me about the day she went to visit our friend, another
friends ex-boyfriend, who lives with the girl I might be in love with.
she tells me it was great, but in the evening the girl left and took a toothbrush with her.
oh, no.
now, this is no clear evidence of there being anything like a boy/girlfriend.
but I care too much. I want to care less. I want to care even more.
I want someone to care about me. I want that.
I want a woman to hit on me. I want to be taken care of.
I want someone to work for me. not the other way around.
because I want me to work for me.
I want to travel and I want Sweden.
sometimes I want sweden so much. this weekend felt right and it didn't feel like two days.
and I can't believe it had been two years. again. it's harder to write about this, because it felt so right.
because having swedish breakfast was something I hardly remembered, and the kind of frostiness, how different it is from the cold weather back home. like a heavy coat on ones shoulders, but not as cutting, not as harsh.
the sound of the language and the feeling of the words in my mouth.
this is all so right. everything will be right and in the meantime I can think about the now and here and not about pink elephants.
I'm very sensitive about other people brushing their teeth, about what my mouth feels like right after I have woken up. when I'm meeting people or going out grocery shopping or this or that, I will always clean my teeth first.
my mom has bad teeth and is afraid of the dentist, so she taught me how important it is to always brush, three times a day. I've never had a single cavity all my life.
so this is hard for me, saying "fuck you" to an object I love so much.
fuck you, toothbrushes.
it's kind of a "don't think about pink elephants"-issue.
I might be in love, and I don't know much about the person or her single/dating-status.
so I take a closer look at the things surrounding her and her roommate.
like the fact that they are two people living together who have four toothbrushes.
whatever.
me and my roommate were both single once and had, like, eight toothbrushes.
suck it up.
t. picks me up from the airport and tells me about the day she went to visit our friend, another
friends ex-boyfriend, who lives with the girl I might be in love with.
she tells me it was great, but in the evening the girl left and took a toothbrush with her.
oh, no.
now, this is no clear evidence of there being anything like a boy/girlfriend.
but I care too much. I want to care less. I want to care even more.
I want someone to care about me. I want that.
I want a woman to hit on me. I want to be taken care of.
I want someone to work for me. not the other way around.
because I want me to work for me.
I want to travel and I want Sweden.
sometimes I want sweden so much. this weekend felt right and it didn't feel like two days.
and I can't believe it had been two years. again. it's harder to write about this, because it felt so right.
because having swedish breakfast was something I hardly remembered, and the kind of frostiness, how different it is from the cold weather back home. like a heavy coat on ones shoulders, but not as cutting, not as harsh.
the sound of the language and the feeling of the words in my mouth.
this is all so right. everything will be right and in the meantime I can think about the now and here and not about pink elephants.
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