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the first saturday
it was just a regular saturday when I got the text. I had messaged her two days prior, and even though she distinctly said yes with an over abundance of s’s, I wasn’t too sure she’d take me up on my offer. but here’s this girl, texting me, asking me to hangout.
now I’ve only met this girl once, over a year ago at a party. naturally that night is a bit of a narcotic fog; I only remember meeting her, her unique and breathtaking name, and that she LOVES tattoos (of which I have plenty).
I texted her my address so she can swing by after work. my folks were going to be gone the next 3 days so I had the perfect opportunity to get to know this girl without my mothers incessant nagging cock blocking me.
she was just a booty call, but when I saw this girl for the first time since the party I literally felt my heart skip a beat. her hair was like a waterfall of chocolate silk, playfully hiding her tantalizing brown eyes behind pink sunglasses. I didn’t realize it yet but I was hopelessly and eternally hypnotized by her. I fell hard for this girl, I just didn’t know it yet.when we sat down and started smoking, I found myself hanging on her every word, actually listening with genuine interest instead of going through the motions as I had with every other pair of breasts I’ve spoken to. she likes the music I grew up with, she likes the macabre and could recite every line that came from edgar allen poes beautiful mind. she’s pure perfection.
I found her intelligence extremely attractive and exciting; I’ve never met anyone like her before. how can you be so fucking smart, so interesting and so sexy? I had no idea. but I was addicted.
as the hours slipped away and our weed supply cut in half, we ended up on my couch watching tv. she was tracing my tattoos with her fingertip, as if her hand was the gun, going over every subtle detail with absolute precision. as she was working on the one on my wrist, I felt her hand slowly inching into mine. I took her hand and held it…akwardly long. like, 10 seconds too long. I saw the bashful smile she made, that said “you sir are pretty gay. now just fucking kiss me!” so I did. I kissed her. we didn’t sleep together but god damn did we have fun that night.
I had to see her again, I just had to. and I did.
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Although I would prefer to be looking at a butterfly or praying mantis they don’t bother me or gross me out the way most people tend to get around bugs.
I have lost much of the innocence I hat in past the past though. I’m not the teenager who cried in math class after one of the boys next to her swatted a bee. I took the random Barbie garment that was in my Easter basket and committed species genocide.
So my mom doesn’t want me to keep food in my room because it will draw ants but I think this is a false sense of control. It seems the same time every year these little buggers are everywhere regardless of the amount of food I keep. I am going to toss that Easter basket though…I’m vegetarian not into chocolate covered bugs. Come to think of it, it was my mother who insisted I keep this Easter basket in my room.
Silly woman…ah oh well I am just as full of strange contradictions. Odd broken glass pieces of imperfection. Shine a light on my kaleidoscopic beauty
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kil1thewaitress reblogged torispokenword“I wanted to know why the blueprint of the [Mary] Magdalene was not passed down..what was passed down was the whore that wiped Jesus’ feet. We skipped the whole phase of the woman – having sexual desire, wisdom, passion. Being an equal to Jesus…”
— Tori Amos (speaking about Muhammad My Friend) Loading... -
there is nothing i can say right now that i haven’t already said. i’m not making resolutions today, to try to make myself believe next year will be better, different, cooler…
this year i want to be better. me. not the year. i don’t want to try to control outside sources, or tell the universe i know what’s best. i don’t know anything.
i do know i am not my best self. i am depressed, i am not eating right or taking care of myself. i am deeply unhappy and therefore i hate everyone else. it’s got to stop.
yes, i have goals for this year. but they are not goals about 2013, they are goals about bettering myself. places i want to move, grad school… these things will happen regardless of the year. they can happen sooner or later than i think. i am relinquishing control, because i never had it. none of us ever did.
last year i told scott i’d be spending new years eve in bed with a good book and some tea. and then for a moment it looked like i wouldn’t. but i am… i am, i am, i am.
2013, for me, is going to be the year of self care. physical, emotional, spiritual well being. that it all. no bells or whistles. just me, a mermaid, figuring it all out.
have a happy, safe, special new year everyone. i love you.
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kil1thewaitress reblogged itscandidlycara“And I know Fuck is a bad word, but it sounds so good.
Good, like flipping off the preacher
whenever he forgets that Eve was Adam’s teacher,
‘cause apples are fucking healthy you patriarchal piece of shit.”— Andrea Gibson [x] (via thesoundofthelifeofthemind) Loading...
