bachata juice poisoning

Apr 06, 2007 22:57

How can dancing all night close to special people leave one feeling so discontent?
I suppose, at the heart of it, lies a supreme pessimism that i need to extract.
I plunged into risks that i hoped would gratify me, ultimately.
But gratification, aside from that scarcity on a cumbia dancefloor with a boy named jesus, is nowhere to be found. A kiss needs to be caught, a passion-flicker, walked away from with a smile and a healthy note of adrenaline, not grabbed at awkwardly and instantly regretted. And i need to learn more spanish so that I can accurately attempt to relate these findings.
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