LOVE is falling like RAIN. So much PAIN, RAIN, LOVE
Uuuuurrgh.
I wish I was at home right now. At home with my pillow and my cell phone and a big vat of Vicks Vapor Rub. But instead, I am situated lovingly inside of a 6 x 6 gray box on the second floor of an office building at the corner of 4th and Broadway, trying and failing to interpret my role in a various number of service tickets. The computer chair is quite comfortable, granted, yet my neck is weak and I have no desire to keep it straight and attentive. My legs are twitching--bouncing uncontrollably under my desk. My throat is as raw as uncooked meat.
I want to be somewhere else. I feel like the ugly stepsister whose foot is too big to fit inside the slipper. And I would be lying if I told you I know what that means. I've got small feet, besides.
I wish I could write something right now. Some kind of fog has consumed my creativity--unless you call blowing your nose an art form. There are so many words that are failing my head. There are so many things I want to articulate. I'm feeling happier. I'm feeling hopeful. I'm feeling speechless for all the right reasons. And I'm feeling like there's someone swimming in my head. Is that supposed to be happening?
I want to be somewhere else. I feel like Goldilocks. She's already stealing other people's porridge, yet she's still bitching and complaining about how hot or cold it is. Suck it up, bitch. You're lucky you get any food in the first place.
My dick aches for yooooouuuu!!
--A
I wish I was at home right now. At home with my pillow and my cell phone and a big vat of Vicks Vapor Rub. But instead, I am situated lovingly inside of a 6 x 6 gray box on the second floor of an office building at the corner of 4th and Broadway, trying and failing to interpret my role in a various number of service tickets. The computer chair is quite comfortable, granted, yet my neck is weak and I have no desire to keep it straight and attentive. My legs are twitching--bouncing uncontrollably under my desk. My throat is as raw as uncooked meat.
I want to be somewhere else. I feel like the ugly stepsister whose foot is too big to fit inside the slipper. And I would be lying if I told you I know what that means. I've got small feet, besides.
I wish I could write something right now. Some kind of fog has consumed my creativity--unless you call blowing your nose an art form. There are so many words that are failing my head. There are so many things I want to articulate. I'm feeling happier. I'm feeling hopeful. I'm feeling speechless for all the right reasons. And I'm feeling like there's someone swimming in my head. Is that supposed to be happening?
I want to be somewhere else. I feel like Goldilocks. She's already stealing other people's porridge, yet she's still bitching and complaining about how hot or cold it is. Suck it up, bitch. You're lucky you get any food in the first place.
My dick aches for yooooouuuu!!
--A