my moon, my man
Give us a glimpse into a full day of your char's life, from waking until they finally fall into bed.
1. Wake up.
2. Go back to sleep. Check voicemail, check text messages, check e-mail, check forums, check Facebook, check Twitter.
3. Sleep. Take a shower, blow-dry and style hair, do make-up, get dressed.
4. Get woken up to have blood pressure checked. ("How? I don't have a pulse." "Do you really want me to talk science at you?" "... no.") Go over appointment book, respond to e-mails, screen new clients. Take a couple candid shots, upload to Twitter. ("Working hard? Hardly working? ;)")
5. One hour of therapy. Mess around on the forums for a few hours, shooting the shit with the hundreds of guys who jerk off to your face.
6. Go back to sleep. Wait for sunset.
7. Wake up. One hour of therapy. Go back to sleep. Dinner date with client, or outcall, or meet with photographer/small camera crew, or go to the club to work a four-hour shift at a dive bar.
8. Wake up. Lie around, watch TV. Syfy channel. See what's on demand. Try to teach yourself to play poker. Realize you can't play poker with one person, try solitaire instead. Go home for a quick change, text and call around until a party is acquired. Wear your sluttiest shoes and bring a wad of cash.
9. Refuse a meal, say you're fine. Have a long, tiring discussion about your recovery and future plans. Throw yourself into the open, waiting, sweaty arms of Brooklyn's party scene with all the beautiful walking damned. Suffocate under the heaviness of their breath and sweat and desires. Run breathless into the arms of the first person who wants to own you and lick your way up their body, pleading desperately for them to stay, just stay, just please stay. Lose your underwear somewhere along the way, meet the DJ, brush shoulders with some minor celebrity, let the liner melt from your eyes and flood the room. Suck on ice chips so you'll stop grinding your teeth. Slip over the glitter and grime and let people walk all over your back with their pointed hooves and feel the stiletto push in between your vertebrae. Watch the moon's soft decay with stars in your eyes and dirt under your nails and linger in the street outside your apartment, wondering if you are brave enough to wait for the sun.
10. Go back to sleep.
1. Wake up.
2. Go back to sleep. Check voicemail, check text messages, check e-mail, check forums, check Facebook, check Twitter.
3. Sleep. Take a shower, blow-dry and style hair, do make-up, get dressed.
4. Get woken up to have blood pressure checked. ("How? I don't have a pulse." "Do you really want me to talk science at you?" "... no.") Go over appointment book, respond to e-mails, screen new clients. Take a couple candid shots, upload to Twitter. ("Working hard? Hardly working? ;)")
5. One hour of therapy. Mess around on the forums for a few hours, shooting the shit with the hundreds of guys who jerk off to your face.
6. Go back to sleep. Wait for sunset.
7. Wake up. One hour of therapy. Go back to sleep. Dinner date with client, or outcall, or meet with photographer/small camera crew, or go to the club to work a four-hour shift at a dive bar.
8. Wake up. Lie around, watch TV. Syfy channel. See what's on demand. Try to teach yourself to play poker. Realize you can't play poker with one person, try solitaire instead. Go home for a quick change, text and call around until a party is acquired. Wear your sluttiest shoes and bring a wad of cash.
9. Refuse a meal, say you're fine. Have a long, tiring discussion about your recovery and future plans. Throw yourself into the open, waiting, sweaty arms of Brooklyn's party scene with all the beautiful walking damned. Suffocate under the heaviness of their breath and sweat and desires. Run breathless into the arms of the first person who wants to own you and lick your way up their body, pleading desperately for them to stay, just stay, just please stay. Lose your underwear somewhere along the way, meet the DJ, brush shoulders with some minor celebrity, let the liner melt from your eyes and flood the room. Suck on ice chips so you'll stop grinding your teeth. Slip over the glitter and grime and let people walk all over your back with their pointed hooves and feel the stiletto push in between your vertebrae. Watch the moon's soft decay with stars in your eyes and dirt under your nails and linger in the street outside your apartment, wondering if you are brave enough to wait for the sun.
10. Go back to sleep.