In another time, and another place, everything worked out like it was supposed to. Firey heaven.
Jesus fuck I'm hot.
I'm gonna seriously post a real update later today since I haven't updated in a week and I have shit loads to write, but right now I can barely breathe let alone type.
It's 100 degrees out there man. Oh my god. My bones are melting. And we're not talkin humidity, oh no. I'm in the fucking desert here, which I love but right now feels like I'm in a microwave that's on crack.
I've already worked out for 2 hours this morning with my friends at the gym (7 AM thank you very much), went to a retirement party in heels, long car ride to an archaeological Pueblo site thingie that was unbelievably AWESOME (I got a certificate people) long car ride to drop Keeghan off, than HOT HOT HOT car ride home in the 85 degree Saturn. I'm about to damn drop right now. And I'm dropping off reference sheets for my hope-to-get job at the move theater later, as well as clubbing and possible pot with my friends. I'mmmmmsoooootirrrreeeeddd.
Everything's all hazy. Ya know that wavy, kinda glass look that stuff gets when you think you're gonna get heatstroke? I think I over-extended myself today. Hmm.
Everything's sweating or sticky. Even the back of my knees which is grosss. Thank Jesus Mom turn the air on when I trudged upstairs with all the shit I bring (i.e. my purse, jewelry, extra shoes, and laptop.) Cause I'm pretty sure Apollo's gotten lazy and is frolicking somewhere with some nymph. Or hunting. Either way he just left that big ball o'fire all by its lonesome to BURN PEOPLE TO DEATH.
DId you know I like the heat? Yeah. I like how it makes me slow and slothy, kinda drugged and out of it. Those little cold shivers when you get a breeze, and how if you get REALLY hot, past the pouring steam and sweating buckets, being hot's almost like being cold. All of it's fabulous though. No matter how hot I get, I still love fire. Would bathe in it if I could, burn away all the impurities and just float in the flames.
If I could have anything I want right now (other than hordes of Karmel Sutra ice cream) than I'd be in this bed with Dylan, collapsed on his chest like Virginia does to Wolf after they finally have sex (10th Kindgdom.) But we'd both be naked, and I'd look up, kiss him and he'd smile all pretty and blindingly white (how does his teeth stay that good?) then I'd fall back to dreamland where I never get hurt and everything's all pomegranates and rainbows, naked Spikes and Deans, and no one ever dies. A girl's allowed to dream right? Even if it never comes true.
Don't they say the heat makes you see things? Maybe it can make me dream that. Either way I need a good catnap. *yawn*
I'm gonna seriously post a real update later today since I haven't updated in a week and I have shit loads to write, but right now I can barely breathe let alone type.
It's 100 degrees out there man. Oh my god. My bones are melting. And we're not talkin humidity, oh no. I'm in the fucking desert here, which I love but right now feels like I'm in a microwave that's on crack.
I've already worked out for 2 hours this morning with my friends at the gym (7 AM thank you very much), went to a retirement party in heels, long car ride to an archaeological Pueblo site thingie that was unbelievably AWESOME (I got a certificate people) long car ride to drop Keeghan off, than HOT HOT HOT car ride home in the 85 degree Saturn. I'm about to damn drop right now. And I'm dropping off reference sheets for my hope-to-get job at the move theater later, as well as clubbing and possible pot with my friends. I'mmmmmsoooootirrrreeeeddd.
Everything's all hazy. Ya know that wavy, kinda glass look that stuff gets when you think you're gonna get heatstroke? I think I over-extended myself today. Hmm.
Everything's sweating or sticky. Even the back of my knees which is grosss. Thank Jesus Mom turn the air on when I trudged upstairs with all the shit I bring (i.e. my purse, jewelry, extra shoes, and laptop.) Cause I'm pretty sure Apollo's gotten lazy and is frolicking somewhere with some nymph. Or hunting. Either way he just left that big ball o'fire all by its lonesome to BURN PEOPLE TO DEATH.
DId you know I like the heat? Yeah. I like how it makes me slow and slothy, kinda drugged and out of it. Those little cold shivers when you get a breeze, and how if you get REALLY hot, past the pouring steam and sweating buckets, being hot's almost like being cold. All of it's fabulous though. No matter how hot I get, I still love fire. Would bathe in it if I could, burn away all the impurities and just float in the flames.
If I could have anything I want right now (other than hordes of Karmel Sutra ice cream) than I'd be in this bed with Dylan, collapsed on his chest like Virginia does to Wolf after they finally have sex (10th Kindgdom.) But we'd both be naked, and I'd look up, kiss him and he'd smile all pretty and blindingly white (how does his teeth stay that good?) then I'd fall back to dreamland where I never get hurt and everything's all pomegranates and rainbows, naked Spikes and Deans, and no one ever dies. A girl's allowed to dream right? Even if it never comes true.
Don't they say the heat makes you see things? Maybe it can make me dream that. Either way I need a good catnap. *yawn*