train journey, charming man*
I have been sitting opposite a young man in the train all day - a vagabond about nineteen, with a well-knit frame and sweet face, exhibiting no special beauty but radiating intelligence and the magnetic force of the male adolescent. I look at his hands - great powerful palms and fingers, fashioned to mould and clasp, yet finely shaped, and attached
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Jokes, jokes ^_^
At the beginning of the entry I thought you were being very detailed. At the end of it, I realised why.
We all have our own little fetishes, don't we? Not that we realise it until we finally meet that one little incident that gets us daydreaming.
... Or dreaming, in my case.
... Not that I'm writing what it is on the internet.
I think I might understand what you mean by begging. When reaching something that just clicks in us we'd do anything for it, no matter how much pride we'd lose.
To be honest, if I found that one thing that actually moved me, I have to honestly admit that I would give up my pride infront of that person to have the understand how much it means to me.
Yeah... it was a dream, unfortunately...
Looking at a picture of Mr Darcy... even though he's not attractive, he really really is. Or maybe it's just my horemones talking?
Did you manage to gather the courage to talk to this ...mmm his hands do sound delicious. Do you think all girls lose their minds when it comes to hot guys? 'Cause I mean I'm usually pretty happy to talk to random people of the street, but even I'm having trouble even imagining talking to someone who attracts me as this guy's hands did for you. Ah wait, wait, isn't that defined as something quixotic or something... or other... or who knows...
Ac
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