leftunspoken's Diaryland Diary ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- Fuck your wrinkle-free life I want to write. I really do. Craving that lovely sated, spent feeling of having put everything down here. But I have no words. Nothing to say. I'm craving many things. And angry with T. And a little caught up in the whirl of things around me, so that it feels as if I've been spun on the tire swing and haven't yet found my way down. And I want so many things right now that I feel selfish and difficult. Not the least of my desires being a good long massage to work the deep and multiple kinks from my hamstrings and hips and lower back, by someone who knows how; and a proper fuck that lasts several hours and leaves me unable to walk without pain the following day. Angry at T. because I saw him yesterday and he brought up that little episode I wrote about the other day. His comment being "I came that close." I said "Oh, really?" and sort of smiled and walked off. He was leaving for school, and I was going back to my office. It was only 20 minutes later that I thought "That close to what?" I called his cell phone and asked him exactly that. He said "losing control". Which still to me sounds like a cop out. You either want something or don't. Do something or don't. I hate middles. Fuck him and everyone who lives their life in the middle. Give me extremes any day. Get wet or go home. Get your fucking toes out of the pool. So many people live life with no courage. And yet...they are the ones who win the game. The ones who succeed. The ones who are wealthy and respected. Fuck them and their wrinkle free suits and their proper responses. Life was meant to be wild. Otherwise there is simply no point. 2:35 p.m. - November 19, 2004 ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- |
||||||