[Personal/Fic] Let the emo flow to fic..
I'm... feeling utterly bleh and sleep deprived. I finished what I needed to do today, but I'm having one of those horrible moments where I feel alone and lonely. *sigh* stupid hormonal messes blargy blarg.
I starting writing this, as an outlet... it's not really about DBSK, though I guess you could see them in there, all five of them, distorted and unflattering.
I'm at the booth, beer bottle in hand as I glare at the guy who thinks he's the shit, all funny and hot and masculine. I don't really care; he keeps trying to say things to me, but he seems drunk and frankly, an asshole who only cares about himself and having fun. I'm not here for people looking for quick gimmicks and word games. I know you think I'm some anti-social, cold-hearted bastard, but to be honest, you're acting like a major prick right now and I don't really feel like talking to you just so I can have my words flung back at me and made fun of.
...which is funny, because three hours and two more beers lately, I'm feeling ridiculously alone and depressed. Mari gives me a hug, keeps smiling and tries to make me laugh, but I feel utterly drained and worthless. Is this what it comes down to? Some random moments where you keep trying, sifting through this crap until you find some connection with someone? I groan. I can already feel myself heading towards dangerous territory, and I need to go, right fucking now.
I keep glancing at the sweet, adorable looking boy, who is of course, already smitten with my friend. He laughs, chortles and my friend is completely besotted. I don't want to break them up or anything like that, but I can immediately tell he's someone I would feel at ease with talking to.
The middle ground of the two is intriguing. He's not quite a complete jackass, but he's still unpredictable and unclear. It doesn't help that he has all the characteristics I like of guys -- tall, slender, boyish hair, glasses and a slight preppy style. I'm not quite sure what to make of his statements sometimes, but he seems at least a little bit more willing to be sincere and make some decent conversation.
I wonder, if in another world, we would've been different, if we would've had a different chemistry, been best friends or the worst of enemies instead of this awkward middle ground of small talk and attempts at flirtations.
The bastard just inadvertently kicked my leg. I restrain the urge to smack him.
Pretty boy smirks at me, as if he senses my ire. I bare my teeth but he's looking at me above his glasses and looks so goddamn hot.
It's not my day.
I starting writing this, as an outlet... it's not really about DBSK, though I guess you could see them in there, all five of them, distorted and unflattering.
I'm at the booth, beer bottle in hand as I glare at the guy who thinks he's the shit, all funny and hot and masculine. I don't really care; he keeps trying to say things to me, but he seems drunk and frankly, an asshole who only cares about himself and having fun. I'm not here for people looking for quick gimmicks and word games. I know you think I'm some anti-social, cold-hearted bastard, but to be honest, you're acting like a major prick right now and I don't really feel like talking to you just so I can have my words flung back at me and made fun of.
...which is funny, because three hours and two more beers lately, I'm feeling ridiculously alone and depressed. Mari gives me a hug, keeps smiling and tries to make me laugh, but I feel utterly drained and worthless. Is this what it comes down to? Some random moments where you keep trying, sifting through this crap until you find some connection with someone? I groan. I can already feel myself heading towards dangerous territory, and I need to go, right fucking now.
I keep glancing at the sweet, adorable looking boy, who is of course, already smitten with my friend. He laughs, chortles and my friend is completely besotted. I don't want to break them up or anything like that, but I can immediately tell he's someone I would feel at ease with talking to.
The middle ground of the two is intriguing. He's not quite a complete jackass, but he's still unpredictable and unclear. It doesn't help that he has all the characteristics I like of guys -- tall, slender, boyish hair, glasses and a slight preppy style. I'm not quite sure what to make of his statements sometimes, but he seems at least a little bit more willing to be sincere and make some decent conversation.
I wonder, if in another world, we would've been different, if we would've had a different chemistry, been best friends or the worst of enemies instead of this awkward middle ground of small talk and attempts at flirtations.
The bastard just inadvertently kicked my leg. I restrain the urge to smack him.
Pretty boy smirks at me, as if he senses my ire. I bare my teeth but he's looking at me above his glasses and looks so goddamn hot.
It's not my day.