You had a chance to see the real me. You blinked. And I was gone.
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Thin line between love and hate. I think I’ve crossed over. I need to not care enough to hate. Fuck this. Fuck liars. They get what they deserve and it’s not gonna be me.
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Seduction is an art. Subtle methods of coercion are used to sway the susceptible. And those who are determined will take their time to get what they want. And when the seduction is successful, those who succumbed ask themselves, was I seduced…or was this what I wanted all along?
-Desperate Housewives
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Parallel universes. I know or don’t know. But everything is possible. Whoever was making the biggest mistake on Sat night, it could be anyone. It could have been a lot of people. Anything could be true.
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I’m pretty sure I have single-handedly ruined that couple’s sex tonight.
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In comparing the same drink from different bartenders. Your green dragon is very delicate and nuanced, while she pounds it in and gets it done.
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I am fearful of men with big hands and large, square-cut rings. I feel like when they hit you, they intend to inflict serious damage.
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Distinguished African American man in a suit asks for a moment. The place quiets down.
“Hello everyone, my name is Tom…and I’m drunk.”
The crowd chuckles. He made it such an elegant announcement.
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Oh honey, touching his arm won’t do any good. He’s distracted. Touches his hair, covers his receding hairline. This man is insecure about age. Probably performance. Oh yeah, he’s thinking about sex. The only way to hold him is to make him think he’s thinking about sex because of you. But he’s not.
I’m so powerful, I’m black tonight.
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The band features–a xylophone, upright base, drums and saxophone. If they cover Isobel Campbell’s Come On Over (Turn Me On), I’ll flip.
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This guy with a Russian accent comes up, a complete invasion of my space, stinking of leather and cigarettes. I don’t want to talk to him. He keeps asking me why I’m so serious and finally I say,
“Because I don’t wanna talk to you.”
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Sour Times at Amber and I got hit with electricity. Pay attention.
Next song… 6 ft Underground.
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About Me:
experimental stream of consciousness writer who may or may not be a liar. sanest person you've ever met but i'll look you in the eyes like a computer eating magnets. what i don't know about you, i'll make up. and you'll still love me because you don't know where i went that moment you swore i disappeared. my moods chase the seasons and i hear it makes an interesting read. i like smelling good.