Think about it. The 2008 election saw record-breaking numbers of minorities voting. Now that that hype is all over, and the elections this year concerned lower levels of government, most of those minority record-breakers didn’t bother voting. The people who vote in every type of election had their chance to say, “Hey, we’re fed up with Obama.” The outcomes of these elections are just seeping with signals of dissatisfaction.

Mr. President was in New Jersey over five times within the past week alone, trying to rally support for Corzine. If you have the fucking President of the United States campaigning heavily for someone who ends up losing, you know there’s a slight problem.

So screw you, White House press releases. We know what you’re trying to do.

Also, screw the people in Maine who voted to repeal the same-sex marriage law. It’s one thing when people are just voting against the legislature considering the creation of such a law. But in this case, as was the case with Prop 8, rights that have already been created for people are actually being repealed. Maine’s state legislature granted gays and lesbians the right to marry, only for that fundamental right to be revoked a few months later by a bunch of nitwits who have nothing better to do with their miserable lives than impede on others’ rights.

Would you like me to vote on your right to marry?
Would you like me to vote on your right to have sex?
Oh! Perhaps you would like me to vote on your right to masturbate.

Because that’s what it all comes down to: rights concerning our personal lives. Rights that don’t concern anybody but ourselves. Our rights are slowly but surely being revoked by other people.

When will it stop?

Ah, infatuation. Possibly one of the most conflicting human emotions. One minute you’re in pseudo-love, the next you’re in complete despair. Our brains don’t know what the fuck to think. Oh, the agony.

But I honestly just can’t get enough.

It’s funny to think how completely different my life is now compared to this time last year. Time goes by much too fast for my liking. At this rate, I’ll be eighty-three next week.