To have someone fight for her. That's really all a girl wants in the end..
to have someone who cares for her, listens to her, is there to catch her fall.
I guess its cheezy romance stuff but it works in the end.
too much oc does that to you. spending hours and hours with romance. when i really should have my mind on the books. and my heart elsewhere. just loosing touch. "it was the most sexually charged nose-graze ever in history, it was more like major nose-humping!"
these pointless discussions. these pontless thoughts that lead you around inside a maze. "it's just a phase". is life just a phase. when longing for a dream.
another broken bottle. whose tragedies is it this week. a chance to make a difference. sneaky quick ones. and vanilla shots. right to your brain. lick your lips, it's worth the burning. i long for a concert.
i spend more money than i should. mostly on partying and gifts for friends. i give like i was much richer. and i borrow like a drug addict - although i am not one. and borrow for booze and clothes when i really have money myself, just forgot to bring it. 700 to m. 300 smth to s. and gift for 200 to another one, and a gift of 500 to someone else. can you see why my hard-earned earnings are just dripping away? and traveling! this nuisance of getting from one place to another! and all the other christmas gifts coming up! oh me, oh my. those pieces of paper.
I am dreaming that I am awake. the sinful demands. in a chapel, in a brothel. i got the time, if you got the place. giving other people pleasure saves me. suffocating stress.
And for the last hundred years did anyone care? in the history of man, did anyone care? we fail to go from the specific to the general and back. why would there be so much that we don't want, pain and suffering, if we succeeded. It's Rocket Summer all over. Do you feel. The weight of the world singing sorrow. Or to you it's just not real? Cause we all got our own things. Yeah, we all got our own things. The specific. We focus on our problems here and now. Some don't even try to solve these. They're just holding on. The flame is gone, the fire remains. we are circular beings who just keep on spinning. we face the same problems over and over, but we forget from one occasion to another, so we think it is new when it really isn't. like this blog. this post is what i have written a hundred times, even written about writing this before, and it never ends. it's my mind, doing cartwheels.
and what if they run out of band-aids? and what if they don't know first-aid? what if they aren't able to patch up the unpatchable? the sores that never heal, the wounds that never seal. who can claim to fix what was broken even with out knowledge. if the unpatchable is unable to say where it hurts? what will happen to the unpatchable?
take me to your secret places, the places no one else gets to see. trust becomes my nourishment and my enjoyment. take me to that lonely beach, that special park, that street-corner where the thugs smoke and dream. take me to that stairway, take me to the stars. take me anywhere, i'd be pleased to go.
