out of the frying pan
into the place where lost loves live
fuck it. i'm going away for the week. i don't need to write anything! hahaha!
so why don't i feel any relief? oh, the relief comes in the writing. dammit. but i can't just plop down and write. i need to be standing on the beach with a gun in my hand... no... that's a song. fuck! i need to be looking out the door? glancing at the floor? hearing my love snore? argh! now it's talk like a pirate day maity! or is it maitie? or oh fuck it and fuck it some more! harder even!!!! could i be a little less dramatic? yes, i do think so. but i wasn't so much dramatic as emphatic. emphasis is useful. no? idunno. depends on what one is emphasizing i suppose and i think i was emphasizing "fuck it" so.... well, that comes with its own level of emphasis built right in. and fucking it harder is what i look forward to this week. so i should be writing some delicious erotic thing that doubles as a spiritual guide to ecstatic experience or some such shit. only it's not in me.
i looked up a picture of a nutty buddy and i found a woman trying to give head to one. that's just silly. oh wait, on closer examination she isn't blowing a nutty buddy, but a chocolate cream wafer.... idiots. that could have been fun.
fun. yes! that's what i'll do this week. and as i've promised Aj, i'll take photos upon my return to display the results. i'm going to the beach for a week - can i do this and not get any sun? moon-burn maintenance remains my goal. so why the beach? i like the smell and the sounds and bumper cars and mini golf on the roof at night and sitting on the balcony reading or drinking or both and playing twister when it's raining and moonlight picnics on the sand and well... i like it.
hey, maybe, just maybe... when i'm on the rides i'll get flung from the ferris wheel and land head-first in the cotton candy machine! a gal can dream, can't she?
that's all my addled brain has to say at the moment. i'm off to do more laundry!
and then a whole week just brimming with possibility....
into the place where lost loves live
fuck it. i'm going away for the week. i don't need to write anything! hahaha!
so why don't i feel any relief? oh, the relief comes in the writing. dammit. but i can't just plop down and write. i need to be standing on the beach with a gun in my hand... no... that's a song. fuck! i need to be looking out the door? glancing at the floor? hearing my love snore? argh! now it's talk like a pirate day maity! or is it maitie? or oh fuck it and fuck it some more! harder even!!!! could i be a little less dramatic? yes, i do think so. but i wasn't so much dramatic as emphatic. emphasis is useful. no? idunno. depends on what one is emphasizing i suppose and i think i was emphasizing "fuck it" so.... well, that comes with its own level of emphasis built right in. and fucking it harder is what i look forward to this week. so i should be writing some delicious erotic thing that doubles as a spiritual guide to ecstatic experience or some such shit. only it's not in me.
i looked up a picture of a nutty buddy and i found a woman trying to give head to one. that's just silly. oh wait, on closer examination she isn't blowing a nutty buddy, but a chocolate cream wafer.... idiots. that could have been fun.
fun. yes! that's what i'll do this week. and as i've promised Aj, i'll take photos upon my return to display the results. i'm going to the beach for a week - can i do this and not get any sun? moon-burn maintenance remains my goal. so why the beach? i like the smell and the sounds and bumper cars and mini golf on the roof at night and sitting on the balcony reading or drinking or both and playing twister when it's raining and moonlight picnics on the sand and well... i like it.
hey, maybe, just maybe... when i'm on the rides i'll get flung from the ferris wheel and land head-first in the cotton candy machine! a gal can dream, can't she?
that's all my addled brain has to say at the moment. i'm off to do more laundry!
and then a whole week just brimming with possibility....
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miss you........