Member: Slocum

Slocum dislikes Seeing roadkill.

I’m private
 
GIFT TIME Profile
Member: Slocum

age: 29 (May 22, 1982)

MEMBER SINCE: October 2005

occupation: i do things, but am hoping to become an impoverished writer that will be appreciated after his death. This might have some weird consequences when it comes to literary groupies, though.

stats: 6'4

i lost my virginity: very drunk

makes me sad: Seeing roadkill.

crush: basically every Suicide Girl on this site

gets me hot: Someone that is smart and funny, but mostly in a sarcastic, witty kind of way

makes me happy: When things seem to be going well. Those moments when you have to think to yourself that whatever the situation, it feels pretty good to be alive.

body mods: My brother owns a tattoo shop, and though I've wanted one for as long as I can remember, I couldn't ever decide on what to get. i did get two "tattoos" a while back: a smiley face on my right thumb, and when turned upside down, a frowny face on my left. Part of the ink lasted for roughly two weeks, then vanished... I do still have the smile of the right, and the eyes of the left

into: anything that catches my attention...comics, microwave dinners, books

sign: Gemini

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JULY 10, 2008 @ 03:22 AM | NO COMMENTS


This city.

Tonight I bought a pack of cigarettes, and walking out, caught a glimpse of the rail heading south. Where were they all going? I looked at the bright lights and told myself that this is the world I thought about when I wanted to move to the city. Out there they are living the lives I told myself I would. I just don't know how.

Sometimes I think you need a key, a password to get into this city. I could head to a bar I've heard of, but I'm sure that I would only be a tourist there, someone the regulars tolerate until their departure. I hear about a punk show, and think that I might be able to fit in, but the smell of the country mouse sits on my clothes. I'm a resident only in address. Dallas awaits my departure.

It seems so much easier for the people I've talked to that have lived and thrived in this city. Maybe it's all a hoax. Alligators in the sewer. They talk about the good times, but leave out the crippling moments of loneliness, Who knows. Zagat? Well, I only read his Cliff Notes....
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