it must be in the water.....

for the life of me, i cannot remember, what made us think that we were wise and we'd never compromise.

i make no promises. this blog wont be as good as the last one. i'm not as bitter (i mean don't get me wrong, i'm still generally hatish). but i'm not as funny. i've kind of lost it since i came here. because my humor offends people. and thats not a great way to make friends.

so i sit here, listening to my man, johnny, and try to think. i try to be deep. but we all know thats not my thing. i try generate that blunt humor that used to come out of my mouth before i could realize what i was saying. but its hiding somewhere. or i left it at home. and i am definitely not as green. not horny. nope, don't want in your pants (that is a very unwhitney statement right thurr). i must have left that in oregon too. (though i hate to think i reserved it for
the boys there.)

WHAT'S WRONG WITH ME?!?

home. i catch myself saying i am going home and its weird. this isnt home. this cave under my bed=not home.

now that i think about it. i have stories. i just can't post them on the internet. because they're politically incorrect (i dont get that term; i get socially unaccepted but not incorrect).

we're all looking for that something.

that specific something. we know exaclty what it is. but we're not sure what we deserve.

and then we find ourselves settling. for something less. maybe because we feel obligated. or maybe we dont think we'll ever find better. and we lower our standards.

don't settle. don't give up.

and then you find yourself 80, unhappy, and alone. are you unhappy because you're 80? or because your alone? because the world provides no justice, right? aren't you supposed to be eternally happy after you start your career? get married? turn 30? don't we do all of this bullshit to be happy? isn't that why i let physics rape me every night?

or does happiness even exist? now, bitter whitney would tell you no. but positive, upbeat whitney (she exists?) says yes. happiness is a state of mind. i'd develop on the idea...but then i'd feel like i was writing an essay. or worse, lecturing you.

i can't give you advice. or tell you what to do. it's against my nature. who am i to tell you how to do things? i dont think i'm better than you. i'm not even better/more important/more worthy than shit (the person).

so unless i ask you for advice: don't give it.

this is going no where. i hate it. i hate this blog.