keep your friends close, but your enemies closer
like really, very close
so close that you can feel your enemies breath on your neck
and you shiver with hatred and… anticipation?
turn around and look deep into your enemies eyes, letting your gaze drag down to their lips, your eyes intense with desire. push your enemies up against the wall.
make out with your enemies.
your friends, who are still close, are super uncomfortable and kinda grossed out
the brilliant thing about being a woman is that I’m punished for both trusting and distrusting men!
I should magically know which man is going to harm me by having a brief conversation with him. if I trust Bad Men, then, well. I should’ve known.
if I don’t trust Nice Men though, I’m an utter bitch who deserves violence. don’t I know most men are good people?