a cup of tea
my friends page won't load properly, it never seems to finish, obviously my stolen internet connection is lagging these days, or maybe the person that pays for it has been downloading a lot of porn? maybe he's lonely, the summer is here & he has no-one to frolic with in the daises so he has to busy himself with plastic internet girls & maybe some role playing games? maybe he sits & drinks into the early hours, trying to while away the hours. i seem to feel sorry about a boy who i've made up, he may not even be a boy.
oh.
i had a bizarre dream about a horse boy the night previous, all puns aside. bizarre but it wasn't about fucking, it was about that love thats just not quite right, the one that leaves you begging for more again & again. i don't know who played the horse boy in the dream, i know i was the girl dry fucking as an old man stared on the bus. it felt so real, but not quite, not like visiting the dead, or the blonde boy, or the manager. it feels like slipping & sliding, new worlds collide with a concrete connection.
oh.
i feel out of touch with the world around me, but maybe something for another time, maybe i make too much of it, i look at my eyes again, still grey, still stormy. i don't know.
i never seem to know & thats boring.
oh.
i had a bizarre dream about a horse boy the night previous, all puns aside. bizarre but it wasn't about fucking, it was about that love thats just not quite right, the one that leaves you begging for more again & again. i don't know who played the horse boy in the dream, i know i was the girl dry fucking as an old man stared on the bus. it felt so real, but not quite, not like visiting the dead, or the blonde boy, or the manager. it feels like slipping & sliding, new worlds collide with a concrete connection.
oh.
i feel out of touch with the world around me, but maybe something for another time, maybe i make too much of it, i look at my eyes again, still grey, still stormy. i don't know.
i never seem to know & thats boring.