IDGARA
Happy New Year! Bullocks and sunshine! Craps and Applejacks! Cheers for queers!
Another new year has started: more new drama from friends and acquaintances that still thrive on social networking, a new time for figuring out one's self, retarded feelings and all the hang-down that comes with it.
I vow to not put my finger through any more sharp blades (it has all grown back nicely, by the way), to lose a mass amount of weight (I've already lost ten pounds in the last month) and, as Patch Adams once said, "IDGARA" -- I don't give a rat's ass. Time to watch out for number one for a while.
School's back in session and so is my artistic brain usage. The lover moved a few towns down into his friend's mother's house. She's caring for him post knee surgery as I can't be there to during school hours. He's comfortable there. I haven't been living with him. I've hermitted. Sleeping alone is difficult.
Saw him yesterday for the first time in a week or so. We dropped X at nighttime and snaked through each other boundlessly until morning. Somewhere in one of our breaks, I caught enough sleep to stay alive through class today. Things are still blurry. Instructor is instructing but I hear Charlie Brown's teacher.
I felt like we got together and just fucked all day. … Shit, we did get together and just fuck all day. Even before the X. I guess he missed me. I'm not actually complaining or anything, but, man, I'm tired.
When I awoke from my nap, he let me hit his bowl. I came to school in a daze: no comedown, no crash, strangely sleep fulfilled and overly satisfied with… well, aha, you know. I couldn't stop smiling, it's weird to be happy.
Goddamnit I wanna go back to bed.
But no, I have work to do.
Being told to create is such a buzzkill.
Buggie
Another new year has started: more new drama from friends and acquaintances that still thrive on social networking, a new time for figuring out one's self, retarded feelings and all the hang-down that comes with it.
I vow to not put my finger through any more sharp blades (it has all grown back nicely, by the way), to lose a mass amount of weight (I've already lost ten pounds in the last month) and, as Patch Adams once said, "IDGARA" -- I don't give a rat's ass. Time to watch out for number one for a while.
School's back in session and so is my artistic brain usage. The lover moved a few towns down into his friend's mother's house. She's caring for him post knee surgery as I can't be there to during school hours. He's comfortable there. I haven't been living with him. I've hermitted. Sleeping alone is difficult.
Saw him yesterday for the first time in a week or so. We dropped X at nighttime and snaked through each other boundlessly until morning. Somewhere in one of our breaks, I caught enough sleep to stay alive through class today. Things are still blurry. Instructor is instructing but I hear Charlie Brown's teacher.
I felt like we got together and just fucked all day. … Shit, we did get together and just fuck all day. Even before the X. I guess he missed me. I'm not actually complaining or anything, but, man, I'm tired.
When I awoke from my nap, he let me hit his bowl. I came to school in a daze: no comedown, no crash, strangely sleep fulfilled and overly satisfied with… well, aha, you know. I couldn't stop smiling, it's weird to be happy.
Goddamnit I wanna go back to bed.
But no, I have work to do.
Being told to create is such a buzzkill.
Buggie