Or, a magicians assistant. They wear fishnets most of the time. Rockin. I'm not tall enough to be a Vegas showgirl. I've got short legs. I don't really like heels.
I did date that guy that looked suspiciously enough like Dave Grohl. We stopped dating abruptly, bc, he had a girlfriend. She was like a crazy spider. Hair flying, arms wavin. I kinda laughed to myself.
We met in The Old City. I had been reading a book, drinking water. My friend just opened her salon.
You're eating too much bacon. You're too picky. Why are you waiting? If you turn the key too fast, the key might break. Obviously. Just be still. The truth is relative. Not so. It's easy to believe the truth is open for interpretation.
I had a great time Saturday, laughing at your jokes, acting like a complete jack ass. You then said, I just can't understand you. Perfect. Just as I planned.
Turns out, there's great hiking to be enjoyed on Easter Sunday. No one is out. Also, there's no one to report you missing either. I couldn't tell you because I knew you would lose your shit and jump my ass. (Rightly so.) Church was awesome and exactly what I thought it would be. My heart did bottom out later in the afternoon.
Yeah, I'm that brave. It's true, you didn't give me the credit I deserve.
I ran through the sheets just like in The Texas Chainsaw Massacre. BUT, it wasn't Leatherface that was trying to cut me into a million pieces. It was my own shadow. My heart was beating out of my chest. Just like a grizzly bear catching fish out of the river. Almost.
Great Jake Gyllenhaal.
My dream last night? Was about being smothered to death with a pillow. I woke up swinging. I half expected not being able to get up. Invisible.
My boar dream? On the phone with Angie, walking on that old road in JC. One boar chasing me. Then, I ended up running up by my house. Boar still charging me. The boar following me into the house. Ripping it apart.
I drink my juice, take my vitamins. These, are my dreams?
Or colors. I miss dreaming like that. The vivid colors. Mostly hot pink.
When the lights go out, we're all pink on the inside.
That my dear is from an ex-boyfriend of mine, who, thought that was a great pearl of wisdom.
He was half right.
I'm just not feelin' it. There. I said it. I could probably live underneath the tile floor in your bathroom. Just below your feet.
All I need? Is your ear. So, you could be just like Van Gogh. And have just one ear. That's enough. Oh, and a mouth is helpful. You know, to reply. Just as I cocked my head to the side, I listened.
It was almost like you had written the script word for word. That's exactly why I'm picky. Solving that great riddle in the backseat of the jeep, legs thrown out of the window. Kissing you makes me feel like a great big void. So please stop. See? I used my manners.
Being honest has almost killed me. Honesty wears a huge sombrero. Discretion. I lost mine. Have I not learned by now? There are posters being made as we speak.
He said, I love your shoes. The truth is, I'm barefoot.