my ever surreal sunshine life
with a little bit of storm and stress.
ah. to be young, quasi jaded and poetic.
so, besides having the best sex i will ever acquire in my teenage years, i have been musing a lot lately. braindeadness has lapsed a bit, and marvin gaye, smokey robinson, fit boys, creative itchiness and most importantly, this new lease of energy, retuning of my heartstrings allow me to be anything and everything again. weathers fit for waltzing in sunshine in gardens. looking lonely sexy on the beach. for slow passionate sex. on dull monosyllable nights however, is the, and i mean, the, time for gritty wonderland sex in hotels. there's no other way to pass those kind of nights. don't expect me to fucking read poetry or even talk on those kind of nights. yknow, the kind of nights, where you just need someone there to touch and hold you like his life depends on it. the kind of nights i spend in my bedroom smoking away some more time, staring away some more time, breathing away some more time. im comfortably numb to it as it is, but if there's a better option, then hey ho lets go. i gotta stop buying tax laced cigarettes. thats the poison. not the nicotine. the tar. the millions of chemicals. its the fucking tax.
today, some creative input. call some schools up. tomorrow, sushi and god knows. saturday, ah i know what to do on saturday, yes i do.
ah. to be young, quasi jaded and poetic.
so, besides having the best sex i will ever acquire in my teenage years, i have been musing a lot lately. braindeadness has lapsed a bit, and marvin gaye, smokey robinson, fit boys, creative itchiness and most importantly, this new lease of energy, retuning of my heartstrings allow me to be anything and everything again. weathers fit for waltzing in sunshine in gardens. looking lonely sexy on the beach. for slow passionate sex. on dull monosyllable nights however, is the, and i mean, the, time for gritty wonderland sex in hotels. there's no other way to pass those kind of nights. don't expect me to fucking read poetry or even talk on those kind of nights. yknow, the kind of nights, where you just need someone there to touch and hold you like his life depends on it. the kind of nights i spend in my bedroom smoking away some more time, staring away some more time, breathing away some more time. im comfortably numb to it as it is, but if there's a better option, then hey ho lets go. i gotta stop buying tax laced cigarettes. thats the poison. not the nicotine. the tar. the millions of chemicals. its the fucking tax.
today, some creative input. call some schools up. tomorrow, sushi and god knows. saturday, ah i know what to do on saturday, yes i do.