The Girl's Got Problems......But not so many as usual.
May 15th 2009 01:33
Hey YOU!
Motherfucker!
Yeah, you. The one I normally obsess about. The one whose just been all over this blog, all the time. Ive got news for you. Im not obsessing over you anymore. That prank call on your birthday did it. Who knows how that became the catalyst, seriosly, but it was. After that, someone else slipped into my thoughts. Someone I dont even really know. Certainly, they dont know me. I mean, its not the first time Ive become obsessed, you of all people know how easily I do it. But this time feels so different. Like if I scream loud enough, they really will hear me.....So bye to you, hello new (slightly) healthier obsession......
The blood will not be soaked up. Sometimes blood is like that, when its full of other fluids. It rests on the surface, it sinks to the bottom, it slides over skin as if it is a sensual oil....Oh, I know how it can be. It feels like its pouring over me from head to foot, like the old rituals. I want an old ritual right now because Im entreating the Gods, Im calling the strings....
We are all connected....
We are all connected...
I entreat, to thee, give me this!
Hear my screaming, feel my tugging, I am here, I am calling, far away in a place you've never been, never seen, never dreamed, I have something for you.....I am calling you......I entreat, give me this!
I have, something, for which you would admire me. Something that will, actually, frighten you. But perhaps it would be comforting too. To know, I dont seek what the others do, the flesh they crave I actually own - so close it is to your form I could win prizes in a 'seperated at birth?' contest. Proves to me that sometimes God barely changes the mould when he makes a new human. The personality, the individual, it may cange, but the forms create themselves in a similar ways to lives past and which thee deems correct for now......
Why send a dream I cannot have? Everything happens for a reason. We are all connected. I could live within your skin if I concentrated hard enough, now, finally, now, I have something wothwhile to focus upon, something truly worth doing. If I wish to truly master the powers of a sorceress, this is a way, a key to it....
Notice. Notice me. This is not a dream you hear. She is real, she has flesh, she calls, with a voice made of throat.
In order to achieve what we desire, through black art or white, it is simply a matter of finding the correct connecting pathways. adding up all of the possibilities. There, is, a way. Always. The magic worker must only find it. Once it is found, the pathways are focused upon, the desire is thought of in perfection, and the strings obey.
And how could I have a dream so fair, in which you did not share? So real, so real, I could feel it, so surely you could too. Others have seen me in their dreams - do you all get together and joke about this cosmic goddess who appears from time to time? Imagine your surprise to find, she is real? Ah, I laugh out loud, that laugh of mine that has others join in with light hearts, without knowing the joke, they laugh with me, for that sound is happy to be alive and touches all. If you were all to discover me, would I then be, celebrity? Oh, laugh harder, laugh more, that one is a joke for sure.
But we were there. I have no love of the white sand, the swelling waves, the old cliche of romance. Yet, through necessity, its where we were. We spoke, the intimacy of friends, the closeness of family. You wanted me to wear a gown....I told you no, I dont wear them, nd now you sound like that sleeze.....You said no, I just want to see you....Do you not like it? And I did. I did like it. Night sky blue, picked with shining, tiny gems in star patterns, oh, it was the gown for me, in such fabric I had never seen in magnificent falling skirts. Over the back of the chair I laid it, soon, I will change into it. Im not long from the shower, in my light robe, you were dressed and ready to go. I make a joke of it - you boys find it so easy. Us girls have it hard, to be beautiful is hard work. With a thick body butter in amazing scent, I begin to make my skin glow. This intimacy - you stay, and it is not intrusive. We are partenered, perhaps married, yet still, this does not feel like danger. Too close we are. Like brother and sister, brother and sister....
But then, I move to my feet. 'Let me' say you, 'does not your man do your feet for you?' and I answer, 'nay, he does not think of it' and lean back, unbelieving, the pleasure of your hands! How doth you know my skin so well! But Ah, we have created this intimacy, w have been friends here, in this vision, so of course, you do.
From foot it is ankle, and I forget, only a thin robe seperates me from your eyes. I realize where those eyes are trailing, up my leg, so slowly, not daring to look, but I feel the trail of your gaze. We both remember, unspoken, a trick played upon the crew, that made them laugh and laugh, mutual smile. "I cannot" say you, 'Nor can I' say I, but then, it is lips on lips and tongues like Ive dreamed and your hands within my robe and your carefully constructed appearance is torn to shreds in months worth of released sexual frustration.
For a while, its sweet after, until the real world calls, and to her we must return. What a strange dream. To show such horrific consequences to actions - dreams are seldom so, consequences are too often saved for the nightmares. But we say, 'I must tell,' and 'so must I'. We fulfill our duties, return to homes, later, that evening, you find me, forcing down red wine, which you love and I hate, and you say, 'how are you?' although, you can see. Yet again, I wear only the robe, but my heart is torn out, my face sticky with the tears. My body is so cold as I sit in the chair, gripping the wine in its expensive glass. I say, 'he left me' and tears fill your eyes as you say, 'she left me too' we want to say so many thngs, like,. how silly, how stupid, to lose so much love over one thing, one silly thing, how could they have thought a momentary loss of control due to pheremones meant less love? They dont understand. And they dont see how their anger has pushed us here together. S much to say, but despite my pain, now I cry for yours, knowing how deep you love, and I say, 'im sorry' but I can barely say it, our arms go around each others grief tight bodies, you say youre sorry too, and we cry, we cry like friends cry in each others arms.
later there is kissng, more, and caressing, sure, but for comfort it is, not for lust, and were they to see they would be justified in their anger, but they know not....Its friends we are, and to be together for a moment and our love of honesty has torn our love from us. Friends we shall be forever more but empty chested, as our loves tore forth our hearts when they went from us.
What strange dreams, what strange dreams, a girl a work likes me I think, her eyes flirted to me and I thought I could see......She will be fun, this one, and knows not the pit she digs so deep.
Oh would it not be better to just smoke and be rid of these accursed brain cells once and for all!
Motherfucker!
Yeah, you. The one I normally obsess about. The one whose just been all over this blog, all the time. Ive got news for you. Im not obsessing over you anymore. That prank call on your birthday did it. Who knows how that became the catalyst, seriosly, but it was. After that, someone else slipped into my thoughts. Someone I dont even really know. Certainly, they dont know me. I mean, its not the first time Ive become obsessed, you of all people know how easily I do it. But this time feels so different. Like if I scream loud enough, they really will hear me.....So bye to you, hello new (slightly) healthier obsession......
The blood will not be soaked up. Sometimes blood is like that, when its full of other fluids. It rests on the surface, it sinks to the bottom, it slides over skin as if it is a sensual oil....Oh, I know how it can be. It feels like its pouring over me from head to foot, like the old rituals. I want an old ritual right now because Im entreating the Gods, Im calling the strings....
We are all connected....
We are all connected...
I entreat, to thee, give me this!
Hear my screaming, feel my tugging, I am here, I am calling, far away in a place you've never been, never seen, never dreamed, I have something for you.....I am calling you......I entreat, give me this!
I have, something, for which you would admire me. Something that will, actually, frighten you. But perhaps it would be comforting too. To know, I dont seek what the others do, the flesh they crave I actually own - so close it is to your form I could win prizes in a 'seperated at birth?' contest. Proves to me that sometimes God barely changes the mould when he makes a new human. The personality, the individual, it may cange, but the forms create themselves in a similar ways to lives past and which thee deems correct for now......
Why send a dream I cannot have? Everything happens for a reason. We are all connected. I could live within your skin if I concentrated hard enough, now, finally, now, I have something wothwhile to focus upon, something truly worth doing. If I wish to truly master the powers of a sorceress, this is a way, a key to it....
Notice. Notice me. This is not a dream you hear. She is real, she has flesh, she calls, with a voice made of throat.
In order to achieve what we desire, through black art or white, it is simply a matter of finding the correct connecting pathways. adding up all of the possibilities. There, is, a way. Always. The magic worker must only find it. Once it is found, the pathways are focused upon, the desire is thought of in perfection, and the strings obey.
And how could I have a dream so fair, in which you did not share? So real, so real, I could feel it, so surely you could too. Others have seen me in their dreams - do you all get together and joke about this cosmic goddess who appears from time to time? Imagine your surprise to find, she is real? Ah, I laugh out loud, that laugh of mine that has others join in with light hearts, without knowing the joke, they laugh with me, for that sound is happy to be alive and touches all. If you were all to discover me, would I then be, celebrity? Oh, laugh harder, laugh more, that one is a joke for sure.
But we were there. I have no love of the white sand, the swelling waves, the old cliche of romance. Yet, through necessity, its where we were. We spoke, the intimacy of friends, the closeness of family. You wanted me to wear a gown....I told you no, I dont wear them, nd now you sound like that sleeze.....You said no, I just want to see you....Do you not like it? And I did. I did like it. Night sky blue, picked with shining, tiny gems in star patterns, oh, it was the gown for me, in such fabric I had never seen in magnificent falling skirts. Over the back of the chair I laid it, soon, I will change into it. Im not long from the shower, in my light robe, you were dressed and ready to go. I make a joke of it - you boys find it so easy. Us girls have it hard, to be beautiful is hard work. With a thick body butter in amazing scent, I begin to make my skin glow. This intimacy - you stay, and it is not intrusive. We are partenered, perhaps married, yet still, this does not feel like danger. Too close we are. Like brother and sister, brother and sister....
But then, I move to my feet. 'Let me' say you, 'does not your man do your feet for you?' and I answer, 'nay, he does not think of it' and lean back, unbelieving, the pleasure of your hands! How doth you know my skin so well! But Ah, we have created this intimacy, w have been friends here, in this vision, so of course, you do.
From foot it is ankle, and I forget, only a thin robe seperates me from your eyes. I realize where those eyes are trailing, up my leg, so slowly, not daring to look, but I feel the trail of your gaze. We both remember, unspoken, a trick played upon the crew, that made them laugh and laugh, mutual smile. "I cannot" say you, 'Nor can I' say I, but then, it is lips on lips and tongues like Ive dreamed and your hands within my robe and your carefully constructed appearance is torn to shreds in months worth of released sexual frustration.
For a while, its sweet after, until the real world calls, and to her we must return. What a strange dream. To show such horrific consequences to actions - dreams are seldom so, consequences are too often saved for the nightmares. But we say, 'I must tell,' and 'so must I'. We fulfill our duties, return to homes, later, that evening, you find me, forcing down red wine, which you love and I hate, and you say, 'how are you?' although, you can see. Yet again, I wear only the robe, but my heart is torn out, my face sticky with the tears. My body is so cold as I sit in the chair, gripping the wine in its expensive glass. I say, 'he left me' and tears fill your eyes as you say, 'she left me too' we want to say so many thngs, like,. how silly, how stupid, to lose so much love over one thing, one silly thing, how could they have thought a momentary loss of control due to pheremones meant less love? They dont understand. And they dont see how their anger has pushed us here together. S much to say, but despite my pain, now I cry for yours, knowing how deep you love, and I say, 'im sorry' but I can barely say it, our arms go around each others grief tight bodies, you say youre sorry too, and we cry, we cry like friends cry in each others arms.
later there is kissng, more, and caressing, sure, but for comfort it is, not for lust, and were they to see they would be justified in their anger, but they know not....Its friends we are, and to be together for a moment and our love of honesty has torn our love from us. Friends we shall be forever more but empty chested, as our loves tore forth our hearts when they went from us.
What strange dreams, what strange dreams, a girl a work likes me I think, her eyes flirted to me and I thought I could see......She will be fun, this one, and knows not the pit she digs so deep.
Oh would it not be better to just smoke and be rid of these accursed brain cells once and for all!
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