waxed honey and cologne
Today in the sophmore hallway, there was a very obvious stentch of waxed honey and cologne in the air. Quite putrid, actually. As toxic as it was, my eyes managed to wander across the hallway delicately. Smelling each person with my eyes to find out where the stentch's host was, my thoughts immediately delved into a different subject. A subject that actually mattered more than who could be drenched in this toxicity floating around in my breathing space.
Which was - anything actually.
On my ritualistic walk home, it was raining. As the liquid seeped into my hair and splattered against my black shoes, I began to notice that I was enjoying it. I was enjoying every moment of this walk; when just years ago I use to hate having to take such long amounts of time to get to the places I needed to go.
There paragraphs are erratic, and make no sense.
Oh well - I must start working on my homework. I would ask you to whip me if I didn't finish it by midnight; but of course the masochist inside of me will adore that to death.
Which was - anything actually.
On my ritualistic walk home, it was raining. As the liquid seeped into my hair and splattered against my black shoes, I began to notice that I was enjoying it. I was enjoying every moment of this walk; when just years ago I use to hate having to take such long amounts of time to get to the places I needed to go.
There paragraphs are erratic, and make no sense.
Oh well - I must start working on my homework. I would ask you to whip me if I didn't finish it by midnight; but of course the masochist inside of me will adore that to death.