daily vitamins | tongue trips ||| || | |||||| |

potentially fatal.
why do these dangers come our way when we are at our weakest?
h.l. mencken said, 'yield to temptation. it may not pass your way again.'
or something to that effect.
are the repercussions worth it?
i hardly think so.
i had asked for transparency, honesty, sincerity, a genuine desire for friendship.
but it could simply be the neanderthal need for continuity that beats behind every man's sternum.

rv is extremely busy and hardly has time to spend thinking of me when those cells are better off solving some other work-related problem.
distractions then serve as a daily staple.
cos the day has to go on.
and on.
(i feel very titanic-ish here)
i cant help loving people i like.
we all want to be touched, hugged.
some kinda weird need to rub our oils off one another.
it melts my heart though.
when i look at stan's eyes and see that puppy need to have me.

"you know that elvis song? where he'd rather have the person in his life and be hurt all the time instead of having the person and losing the person?"

no.
but i get what you're trying to say.
and yes, while you're trying to explain yourself, go ahead and give me the ultimate killer.

"rarararararararararararararailoveyourarararararararararararara"

flatliner goes off.
you've seen me all of four times and spoken with me almost daily.
and you love me?
i'm a temperamental, cowardly, insecure, manipulative, cunning woman and you dont even know that yet.
oh, and i have rv in my life.

oh, how i repeat that like a rap to the beat of my cautious heart.

"i know i cant have you as my girlfriend. but i want you in my life. i care for you, dl. i dont know why i feel this way for you."

oh scho schweet.
oh scho scho schweet.
but i preferred the "smooth skin" comment.

but i had such a great time.
we drank on empty stomachs, almost fell with the table on top of us, spilled drinks all over us while escaping the heavy toppling table, danced, laid down for a while, drank again, danced, danced, danced.
such honesty i cannot ignore.
such raw honesty i dance to in all my tribal nakedness like a drunken witch around a fire.
these people, have a grounded honesty to them that is absent from my so-called intellectually abled so-called friends.
the freedom (and cigarette smoke) bloats my lungs and my soul floats.
all garb is shed.
while my so-called intellectually abled so-called friends keep their suits on and shoot bullets into your heart from the pockets of their suits.

you, 'tongue trips' is merely a double entendre.

do not light the flame of your imagination the way i pour fuel on mine and torch my heart.