It really is the simple things...
that make me smile. A cute little hipster girl in tight grey jeans passed me on the sidewalk and said, "hey". We both smiled.
I turned down the advances from a 5'11", size zero, sensually inclined 22 year old female, despite the fact that she was in my house...at my request. It would have been trouble and it just didn't "feel right". Some things are better left to fantasy.
This afternoon, someone stated with calm and ease, "Fuck you, I don't give a fuck about you", while looking directly at me. It was nice. I am paraphrasing of course, but that was the essence of our conversation (which had to go on for a few more uncomfortable minutes). Even that discomfort was interesting and pleasant.
A local coffee shop manager inquired as to why I wasn't around as much. We exchanged names. It made me feel like a missed regular.
I watched a junkie shoot up in front of another local coffee shop.
I like people. As they are. Being. Can I be just as I am?
There is this odd wedge that is coming in between me and my reactions. I get the sense as well that I am more in and with happenings; not trapped in a muddled veil of thinking. Thought is overrated.
Who am I; I'd like to get to a place where I can honestly answer, "Don't know".
I turned down the advances from a 5'11", size zero, sensually inclined 22 year old female, despite the fact that she was in my house...at my request. It would have been trouble and it just didn't "feel right". Some things are better left to fantasy.
This afternoon, someone stated with calm and ease, "Fuck you, I don't give a fuck about you", while looking directly at me. It was nice. I am paraphrasing of course, but that was the essence of our conversation (which had to go on for a few more uncomfortable minutes). Even that discomfort was interesting and pleasant.
A local coffee shop manager inquired as to why I wasn't around as much. We exchanged names. It made me feel like a missed regular.
I watched a junkie shoot up in front of another local coffee shop.
I like people. As they are. Being. Can I be just as I am?
There is this odd wedge that is coming in between me and my reactions. I get the sense as well that I am more in and with happenings; not trapped in a muddled veil of thinking. Thought is overrated.
Who am I; I'd like to get to a place where I can honestly answer, "Don't know".