gainesvillain
ok so the girl who i saw the party at 2nd and 5th one and one half months ago has since shown up at Leonardo's Pizza two days later, the Atlantic (indie dance club) 3 weeks later, and then a play downtown 4 days later. her name is jessie, she's a junior, and after our run-in at Leonardo's, Mike has since forced my name and my socially frustrated and curious situation upon her, and so thus, has spilled the beans.
she knows i dig her like gold mine, therefore, whenever i see her, the awkward situation invariably ensues, her friends all glance at me, jessie and i exchange uneasy looks, and my nerves shatter like single pane windowglass.
not only that, but monica love-of-my-live-from-early-january-to-late-april-2004 has recommenced communication with me, and so now my incentive to visit west palm has skyrocketed, no longer just to relinquish my drug supply, but also to press lips with the cubana beauty monica pazos. if her friends are reading this: please keep my confessions on a serious down low.
now, because of monica's recent interest in continuing a telephonic communication with me, i've started to have the "good dreams again" and it's been really nice being able to enjoy my nighttime adventure, spending each evening with one of my past love affairs, and michelle chapman has begun to show up also. unfortunately some of the more stomach wrenching figures have appeared as well, and as i sit here pounding away on seth's keyboard, with no bed in the whole world to call my own, i wonder when i'll climb another tree, sit crosslegged on the carpet, tear the tiny arms off my wristwatch and giggle in the corners of a boyhood mansion, drifting off to sleep in a treehouse straddling the satisfaction of an adulthood desire to fall in love with a childhood lover.
everybody remembers their first time being held:
by mother and father, by carpets and bedsheets, by sailboats and treehouses, by sisters and beaches, but mostly by girls who'd button our collars and sigh us to sleep, then shake us by morning and pull us to our feet.
i've still got pockets and linen and all of the soft things that i've been waiting so long to wrap you in.
.donny
...death
...before
...dishonor
she knows i dig her like gold mine, therefore, whenever i see her, the awkward situation invariably ensues, her friends all glance at me, jessie and i exchange uneasy looks, and my nerves shatter like single pane windowglass.
not only that, but monica love-of-my-live-from-early-january-to-late-april-2004 has recommenced communication with me, and so now my incentive to visit west palm has skyrocketed, no longer just to relinquish my drug supply, but also to press lips with the cubana beauty monica pazos. if her friends are reading this: please keep my confessions on a serious down low.
now, because of monica's recent interest in continuing a telephonic communication with me, i've started to have the "good dreams again" and it's been really nice being able to enjoy my nighttime adventure, spending each evening with one of my past love affairs, and michelle chapman has begun to show up also. unfortunately some of the more stomach wrenching figures have appeared as well, and as i sit here pounding away on seth's keyboard, with no bed in the whole world to call my own, i wonder when i'll climb another tree, sit crosslegged on the carpet, tear the tiny arms off my wristwatch and giggle in the corners of a boyhood mansion, drifting off to sleep in a treehouse straddling the satisfaction of an adulthood desire to fall in love with a childhood lover.
everybody remembers their first time being held:
by mother and father, by carpets and bedsheets, by sailboats and treehouses, by sisters and beaches, but mostly by girls who'd button our collars and sigh us to sleep, then shake us by morning and pull us to our feet.
i've still got pockets and linen and all of the soft things that i've been waiting so long to wrap you in.
.donny
...death
...before
...dishonor