baby

baby

fuckin homies

cute friends and cute girl

soft/wet

been fly

Life

I am indescribably happy for Sof.

I think I might be swelling with pride.

lapin

My couch and cold sweat. If I'm not on the goddamn phone, I wake up in the middle of the night drenched in sweat. Drenched enough so that I'd have to change into dry clothes. I have these mundane, tedious, but dreadful dreams about work. Like I'm constantly being grabbed by the head with these huge ass grubby hands pushing me down. I sweat more than my best 3mile run. I sweat more than my best cum. If I'm not on the goddamn phone to sleep, this is how I sleep.

I feel weaker now than I did before. Lazier. More lethargic. Listless. I hate missing my previous job for how easy it was. I hate how mentally grueling this new one is. I can't even describe what makes it so unbearable. I just know I can't keep still.

My father hates me for being drunk all the time. My mother hates me for being drunk and for being gay. Didn't anticipate just how homophobic she is until she found out. It's stormy in this house, and for the first time, I'm sincerely considering getting the hell out of here.

I somehow always expect things to make sense the longer I live this life. But it just keeps getting more confusing, less satisfying, and a fuck load more tiring. And annoying. I couldn't forget annoying.

I must admit though, there are the few things that clasp me by my hand and shake me awake.

chained

enslaved by pretty pussy

handsome baby girl

by ace's house

me, actually

cc cheer

Newport hundreds bummed like an entitled vacuum, the kind dogs fight with. I watched a toilet overflow and refuse to flush. Then I stared it down and quietly hexed it. After 5 long seconds of stillness, the fucking thing swirled down just the way I wanted it to.

Georgie, my darling sweetheart baby. I'd never heard anybody talk so loud and so carelessly. He said that every city he touches turns into "f*gville". Then we touched some places together and even those turn into his own pool of goo. Charming fucking man. I feel unstoppable with him. The queen and the queer. And I'm certainly not the queen.

I can't stand counting money.

The difficulty of grasping a very particular fact is astounding. Not everyone can make anyone come. "You didn't come?" Get out of my fucking face. It's becoming more clear to me why I stayed as long as I did with my last relationship.

I revealed to Georgie that I'm not actually a lesbian after spending weeks of allowing him to assume so. But I also told him that I don't fall in love with guys. Homoromantic bisexuality, but who wants to get into that shit? I am starting to like not receiving the assumption that I'd be straight. Still, some people are fucking clueless.

FSU at it's peaking point. FSU and Ace isn't even home yet. FSU and I keep finding new rock bottoms. Fuck shit up, fuck shit up, fuck shit up.

This is me trying to get over this. This is me trying to get over her. This is me burying my face somewhere else, anywhere else, so long as I don't think about that face.

bad fucking week

every single day

Am I acting up again

straight fucked

I didn't need to say "bless you." I didn't need to buy mouth wash. Didn't need to apologize so often or say it's ok. Didn't need to say hi so fucking cheerily. Didn't need to justify why prostitutes should be protected too.
I didn't need to wait for phone calls or peer out the window. Didn't need to sing along to songs I went out of my way to learn. Didn't need to be the designated driver. I didn't need to hold a goddamn hand, with the other on the wheel, while craning necks for all those kisses that I pulled my eyes off the road for. I certainly didn't need to let pry open those pages or read aloud those short stories until I heard the light snores. Killed the sarcasm and professed nightly, I didn't need those either. I was fine not needing. I really fucking was.

knots

In the morning I smell like Mexican food and at night I smell like seafood. I smell like heaven during the in between and I probably taste like it too.

Stabbing. Slicing. Grazing. Cold metal and no clothes on. Trash and cash in my pockets, covered in half-chewed spearmint gum. This is devious. The air out is dry. Moist palms but grabby hands.

I will stack them however I please.

ss mf scoundrel

My tendency of hitting on other foo's girlfriends is starting to get fucking out of hand. Bad enough for me to have to acknowledge. Too into tryna steal your girl. Fuck.

I can see the look on all their faces that they're itching to punch me in the fucking face.

burnt

that's me. I'm burnt the fuck out. I'll get whipped in the face with this overwhelming urge to quit everything. Every now and again, the thought rises and it comforts me. But I know I wouldn't try that shit again. I can't even fucking think straight right now.

tuna

This idiot loves me.

constant house attire

ss 15 hours daily/60 hours a month

I replaced alcohol with this beautiful girl.

I replaced my complacence with a quieter nod.

I replaced frigidness with kisses to my dog.

I replaced my temper with sweating and soreness.

I even replaced swerving sarcasm with transparent, embarrassing, and absolute truthfulness. (But that's not always).

My contact list is at its bare minimum. I tripped for a little bit until I realized I had no reason or urge to trip at all. I'm so calm and it's fucking lit. It's candle fucking lit.

Everyone I know seem to all be smiling about something. I've been smiling back, I just haven't shown it yet. 

In between reality and delusion, there's this one thing always looking at me, and it's the one thing I'm always looking back at. Small hands, soft eyes, and a propensity to be both breathless and at peace.

This, right now, is my favorite kind of hunger. It'll eat me alive eventually, but I'd still rather be eaten by this than the nothingness that I usually let swallow me.