Wednesday, October 10, 2012

A little bit of this, a little bit of that

Way to go, me. I'm homedrinking again. I bet you readers are pretty sure of some things now, including that I'm a butt ugly misanthrope and an alcoholic. Here goes some incredible news: I don't give a flying fuck for what you think. None of you have a fucking clue about what it feels to be me. In fact, you don't even know if I exist, and probably it's the only thing we have in common now.

Needless to say I'm in need of a good rough fuck. Been dreaming of making love and I sure will appreciate it in the morning after. Making love is for sober people, and right now I'm loud and wild. Good for me. Not a chance I'll have any physical contact with anybody tonight, but probably this post will have a lot of acesses tomorrow. Usually chapters full of "fuck", "fucking" and pornography are.
And I'm actually happy I found one other girl who didn't like "50 Shades of Gray". I dunno if she decided that before or after she found out that it's actually a fan fiction written on the Twilight saga. You know, this is the only part I think that makes the book noteworthy. I like fan fiction. Most of you don't know it, but I'm a pretty good writer on this myself...

I feel like calling Mr. Red and telling him aaaaaaaaaaaaaall I want to do with him right now. Starting from a karaoke duo, we could bet a race back home, then take a shower with our clothes on, before getting into what you're really interested in knowing about. But I won't open it up for you tonight. Everything that comes to my mind now I'll keep to ourselves, in loving honour of this secret that everyone can see, but don't.

Well, I've been writing a lot here. What is not really healthy for my literary fame, since I have nothing really interesting to post, but pure verborragia. Theraphy, I guess. I spend the whole day writing mechanically at work, that in the evening I feel like writing something at ease, just to remember my life is not just about concrete descriptions of boring stuff. I can still enjoy it. I can still paint my world with the same letters that stresses the hell out of me at the office. And I do love the magic of reading this all some time after, and rescue some memories that once made me smile. The touches that made me shiver. The jokes that made me laugh. I am not smart and scientifical enough to build a time machine, but I can write and read my way back to the good times anytime.

And who would say our game of hide and seek would last forever...

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