d•j•dy•nas•ty (d•j•di•nas•t) n (1996) 1 : a real-time look into the life of a gay man 2 : an undramatized diary for public viewing esp. via the internet

Behind the pretty face, is someone who’s hurting —

I used to think that if I married the hottest sexiest guy on the planet, prince charming so to speak, that I would live happily ever after. I know it was quite silly for this Fairy to believe in a fairy tale, but my Prince Charming has turned into an Evil Queen instead. This isn’t what I bargained for, but instead it’s what I’ve been dealt with.

My husband is by no means perfect and I should block comments on this post just to prevent some of the posts I’m sure would be posted. But his destination in life and mine seem to have gone in opposite directions. He is perfectly content with wasting his life on facebook playing whatever-ville for the 9 millionth hour and feeding his chickens and harvesting his crops, while his dog hasn’t eaten in a week, and has eyes turning yellow from holding the urine in so long. I think part of the reason I even come home is to make sure the animals are still alive, rather than check the mail and go to bed. I can sleep anywhere, and anything important goes to my PO box anyway.

And like him, I am by no means perfect either, but I know that we’re perfectly mismatched as we’ve grown apart. I have the desire to work hard at everything in life to become better than others, he wants to be just like everyone else. As the economy and the people in it get further in the tank, that puts him at more of a distance from me than ever before.

I have watched the Occupy Wallstreet movement with awe, now while I want to be the 1%, I want to be taxed at a higher rate, like it was done during WW2. I have always been a firm believer in the super rich being super taxed, because the higher the taxes are on the Rich, the more of it they will give away to places where they can see the good being done, rather than being sucked into the pockets by worthless politicans who should be murdered 9/11 style, with a jetliner up their ass.

Now that I’ve managed to get myself further onto an FBI watch list. I think that love is over rated, and arranged marriages are onto something. The next person I choose to spend any part of my life with has to have their head on their shoulders, and live in a desirable location.

Shania Twain said men are a fine piece of real estate, and when it comes to real estate, remember Location, Location Location! So let’s hear from California and Europe because I’m tired of Chicago!

Categorised as: dj | relationship_stuggles

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