dusk slurs
Writing poetry in my mother tongue is somewhat…liberating. I can cope with things I’ve been shoving aside and filling with endless hours of work and sex and video…machines…or something like that. I’ve been around for a while, on the other side of the fence I mean and you know? For the first time in what seems like bloody forever I can lean back, run my fingers through my messy hair and sigh with relief.
I’ve made it this far and the road ahead might make me insanely happy or even cause unbearable misery, but I think, yeah I know, I can handle it. Somehow.
Also, drinking while tired and without much of a lining in your stomach can cause you to lock your keys in your car when buying coffee at your local 24 hour store. *nods* Oh speaking of oddities, I’m going with J (who is very straight despite his mannerisms and such) to Beaulah bar and also on that random note, see the picture for some real oddness here - those darn Catholics are everywhere I tell you, even at the gay bars! *o*
I’m going to pass out, need to get up for one more day of 8am - 4pm then I can go crazy and enjoy some partying~ weee!