dance parties are fun until you think of reality.
All one ever needs for a dance party to get started is for two seemingly unembarrassed people to jump up and shake it like there's no tomorrow.
Last night I started a dance party at a Lovejoy's with my friend Jessi. We had the place rip roaring by the end of the night. There is something about pulling a bearded, tattooed, punk rocker out for dance that is really satisfying.
I've been on the up and down lately. Trying to get everything done without so much time to deal with the grueling frustration that I desperately need a hug.
I've grown up a lot this year. I'm a lot more quiet. I wait for my moments now. I've also realized that this little day to day bullshit of deadlines and all nighters is a shit ass excuse to not go out and date a little. But christ, its been so long since I've met anyone worth sparking an interest that I'm beginning to realize that I probably don't know what my type is anymore. I used to assume that it was a the bearded bitter assholes spouting out Kerouac quotes between hard whiskey pulls. And granted, thats hot but where has that gotten me. A little more jaded and lot more willing to spend time in front my real boyfriend iMac.
its transition. its transition. its transition. once i get a real job a real life will start. thats how it happens. real jobs, real life. realness. just real in the future. yes. i am sure of it. nothing but realness in the future. at least thats what my palm is telling me.
Last night I started a dance party at a Lovejoy's with my friend Jessi. We had the place rip roaring by the end of the night. There is something about pulling a bearded, tattooed, punk rocker out for dance that is really satisfying.
I've been on the up and down lately. Trying to get everything done without so much time to deal with the grueling frustration that I desperately need a hug.
I've grown up a lot this year. I'm a lot more quiet. I wait for my moments now. I've also realized that this little day to day bullshit of deadlines and all nighters is a shit ass excuse to not go out and date a little. But christ, its been so long since I've met anyone worth sparking an interest that I'm beginning to realize that I probably don't know what my type is anymore. I used to assume that it was a the bearded bitter assholes spouting out Kerouac quotes between hard whiskey pulls. And granted, thats hot but where has that gotten me. A little more jaded and lot more willing to spend time in front my real boyfriend iMac.
its transition. its transition. its transition. once i get a real job a real life will start. thats how it happens. real jobs, real life. realness. just real in the future. yes. i am sure of it. nothing but realness in the future. at least thats what my palm is telling me.