12.3.12

Oráculo.

That awkward creepy awesome moment when your horoscope starts to describe your exact situation and ends up giving you the best advice about what you should do next in order to succeed.

I mean, it basically told me what any normal person would have advised me to do, but when it comes from a source that can randomly talk about anything, and it so happens to land on what you're living right now, it's the voice of reason.
And I'm bound to follow its advice as if it was matter of life or death. Because it just proved right everyone that told me to do exactly that.
And what is it I must do? Nothing. Apparently, I've already done enough, now it's their turn to do something. The thing is, waiting fucking sucks. The uncertainty of not knowing if the other person will ever make a move is just eating me up inside.



I hate to wait for something that I can't control.
I hate your mixed signals.
I hate the fact that it's your turn to play.
I hate to wait for you to play.
I hate this game. (No, you don't. Right, I don't.)
I hate that deep down I know I don't hate this game.

I don't hate any of this actually.
I'm just upset.




So I'm counting on you then, horoscope.
You better not fuck this up.

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