little games we play

pasta.

you can smell it in the air when you let yourself in.

you don't know whether to smile, or be worried.

"baby is that you?"

"its the Grim..or your italian lover"

she laughs...a light little tinkle..

you smile now, its good to be back home. she walks in, barefoot, gods you love her barefoot, there is always some vulnerability with naked feet. maybe you just have a foot kink. but you love it.

even more when she smiles like that, and literally drapes herself over you like that..a soft live warm blanket. so fucking soft. she holds on a little bit too tight, she smells like vanilla ice cream and warm coffee. 

" i miss you, go take a bath. you smell horrible" she whispers.

"i missed you too." 

its a lovely bath, peach scented candles, lavender bath salts.

definitely something to worry about. 

she is being too nice, granted, you haven't been home in three weeks...but you have been gone for longer, and you know she hasn't been lonely.

"did i forget something?"

 you ask as you walk into the kitchen, to a set table, you were right,

pasta, some fancy sauce, and more candles,

groan. dammit, you forgot an important date, what stupid thing are you meant to remember right now.

she smiles again, tilts her head to the right, just as she knows, you like it. her red curls escape from her messy bun. its good to be back home.

" you know, if i was bad, i would make you think that, just so i can get an expensive gift from you, say, like those thigh high boots we saw-"

she breaks off and looks at you quizzically, as you attempt to keep a bland face.

" what boots?"

her smile turns feral, it would have scared you five years ago, when all your games were meant to wound, unlike now, when all your games are mischievous and naughty. she knows...she knows you know she knows that you might have gotten her those ridiculously expensive shoes.

the ones that make her look like sex on a stick. milla fucking jovovich in a battleship.

"babe...where are you hiding them?"

..."i dont know what you are talking about"

"umph, fine. sit down and eat then."

the meal was lovely, she is an amazing cook. if it wasn't for clothes, she would have been a sight n the kitchen, in her white uniform and spatula, that thought is disturbingly arousing.

your favorite place in the whole flat, is your study, because of the smell of your books, the dark wood and antique lamps you have randomly placed on top of dusty books. and the fireplace at the corner of the room. it reminds you of the dreams you both had, especially now, when you are sitted on your warm armchair and she is curled up on your lap, reading from the same book, with an expensive bottle of wine perched on the arm rest. remember when all you had was a little studio apartment, and the only wine you could afford was cheap and came from a box? remember working six different jobs between the two of you and intrusively cold mornings? remember the tears, and the fights, and good Lord the make up sex on the roof top.

it seems like a lifetime ago...candlelit dinner from a box, on the floor. when you would dream of what you have now.

she snuggles closer.

urgh, this is too fucking domestic for your taste. 

"kitty, there's something i got you, go find it"

you tell yourself you just want her off your lap. its true. ofcourse. 

you only cuddle after particularly good sex.

she scrambles off and throws you one of those gods-so-sexy smirks and leaves. like she knows something you dont. you hate her sometimes.

she yells your name. really yells it. fuck if she doesn't like it. its impossible to please her. 

you walk into the room and you find yourself an armful of horny willing woman..all wet lips and roving hands.

you knew she would like it. who was worried, definitely not you. pssht.

back to the woman trying to suck your soul through your mouth. when she kisses you like this, like she cant live without her mouth fastened on yours, you think maybe perhaps you dont hate her...especially when she whimpers just like that, presses you into the wall just like so, slips her hands into your pants just there..moans into your ear-

"i missed you, fuck...i want you"

you laugh, because dammit...its well worth it that you spent an insane amount of money on a Jean Paul Gaultier red jacket that she knows you know goes well with the boots you 'didnt-get-her'

she is materialistic...and thank heavens you can both afford to spend money on stupid expensive gifts for each other, you want to think of the customized gold little ball with wings she got you last month, but she pulls away...and oh gods, pulls off her top. you fucking missed being home.

....in bed, all nimble fingers, tangled legs and bruised lips, and she's panting, and she's moaning, and she's twisting around on top of you like that..and she lowers her head and her ass like that...and you have handfuls of soft round ass.

"baby...fuck...gods, baby.."

 she always jokes that you only call her baby when you want something or both of you have your heads buried in wet places.

she laughs.

and oh God, the tremors, through her tongue fastened on that little engorged point, and its all you can think about....getting off, and she holds your hips like that, and you hold her ass like that, and you cant get enough...and she tenses, and you can feel it, oh shit, and somehow, she does more, and it gets better..and you are out of your mind, and she's fucking you..and you fucking her...her mouth, your mouth, and she screams.........

you always wake up for a morning run on weekends, but dammit, after an 11hour flight, you deserve to sleep in on weekends.

...you wake up alone though, its okay, who gives a fuck. not you, obviously.

shower, warm, abit oversensitive at places, it was a good night.

you try not to be surprised when you walk into the kitchen and find her sitted on the counter going through your mail. naked. red boots.

with the sunlight streaming in like that, making her hair shine just a little bit, it overwhelms you a little bit.

you both know,

but you pretend you dont.

its these little games you play, 

you pretend she doesn't matter

she pretends she doesn't know that you would never break her heart.

you both pretend you can come and go as you please.

but when the sun is just right,

and she smiles at you, so shy, and dammit, tilts her head like that,

and your heart beats like so, 

and you smile back just like that,

and you walk to her,

and kiss her just like that..slow, tender,

..you both know, its the games you play..

she opens her eyes,

"what was that for?"

shrug.

"just because.."

"yeah?"

"yeah."

"do it again then.."

and you do

die in whips and orgasms

WARNING: drug abuse, self harm, mentions of breathplay, really emo...like slit-my-wrists-kinda emo...no offense.

A little cold...love the cold seeping into your still moist skin.
hands a kimbo
legs at an odd angle.
naked.
so bloody cold.
the tiles, the air coming  in through the hotel's bathroom window.
eyes closed..lips chapped.
if someone walked in..they would think you were dead...died in the most bizzare pose...but that's your thing.
DRAMA QUEEN.
dead.
dead.
how could you not be with the arrays of weapons all over the floor...the pristine white tiles..
pink pills,
white pills,
pretty sky blue pills,
a mirror with three thin white lines,
a bowl with herb,

amber coloured liquid in crystal

your head is buzzing, you have goosebumps all over
nipples perk
gods you wanna fuck.

but you dont want to move.
you cant move.
lethargy

the voice in your head giggles...but nothing changes..fuck you are so fucking high...high...high...high....again, laughter.

eyes still closed.
you wonder if you can take another hit without moving...what is they call it? kenesis?  wuut?? thats not even a fucking word...dammit, you a fucking jedi bitch...use the force..
i would rather be Leia the voice yells..
...Padme is sexy...Natalie Portman..
fuck still horny.
dammit...so fucking stoned..
finally you move...just a bit...grasp at your hips tighter...
now you smile...grabbing your hipbones like that,
feels like you holding a motherfucking trophy.
excitement.
rush.
leeethargy.
run your fingers over your thighs.feel the smoothness
you cant know what is there...except...you do..
maybe you imagine it,
sticky.
so very sticky.
you can see them behind your closed eye lids
crimson gashes.
dried up blood.
dig your nails into it.

you think you have an orgasm.
the phone rings somewhere next to your right ear.voicemail.speaker
" baby where are you?? should we come pick you up? we wanted to be at the club by 1a.m its eleven. we miss you!! cannot wait to see you!!!"
...abit of crazy laughter and catcalls...then another softly...
"you mean you cant wait to see if she is skinnier"
"you are a bitch."
"fuck, still on call"
...someone clears their throat...you smirk.
"ANYWAY BOO....CALL US!!!"
....

friends.
you hate them.
you love them.

...
roll over...finally get up..
walk to the bourdoir.
pick up your brushes...
time to make art.

....concealer...every stroke...hide the bags under your eyes..
stroke....stroke...the purple bruise on your cheek you could never explain.
stroke...stroke...stroke..

...your favourite bit...foundation....literally, wear a mask..with every soft brush...to your jaws...to your hairline..to your neck..

beautiful. hidden imperfections= perfection.

done...down to the flimsy red dress and six inch heels...your colleagues at work wouldnt recognise  you.

slut.

you step out...the door man stares..
blow him a kiss.
when you walked in...you were in a short skirt.
professional.
hair sleeked back.
red lipstick.
briefcase.
rimmed glasses.
pumps..

and you walk out.

red dress.
hair to your waist.
red lipstick.
gold clutch..
gold chocker...to hide finger prints..you shiver when you remember.
you cannot wait.

get to the club.
blow kisses.
skinny mojito....slutty..like you.

and the music...you sway, with your drink held high.
that girl all men secretly wanna leash and whip.
that girl all girls want on their knees, bound.

you are in love.
with death.
and tonight...its in the arms of whoever takes you home..

and tomorrow...if you make it..
back to the board rooms and salad for lunch..
right now...its the poison in your veins, the bruises on your back, the drink in your hand..
your friends at the bar..
and the man walking towards you.

ciao bellas

ramble ramble crazy crazy

oh wow, i got so many views on my last post :) who are these people reading my silly little posts? thank you all the same....i must warn you...this post is angst-filled...mentions of BPD, OCD, and just generally, mature content herein.

i am watching a video of Tom Felton :) i adore him really, and he is making me smile...i have very unhealthy fantasies about him.
...how do i start this post...a friend of mine asked me...let me try and quote
"why are you like this?'
and i stared at her, because i couldn't understand what she meant by that...why am i how? in the context of the convo...i had come from having a mental assessment test done on me. :/ i must say this now...if you are gonna judge me, and my petty little issues...you can leave now...another friend of mine called me an Oreo...black on the white side, white on the inside...and sometimes i don't blame him...because i really do have petty issues, that end up bugging the shite out of me...maybe its because of where, and how i grew up...the urge, the need to leave that world, to be in a better world, and the exposure to so many books. i wish i was ignorant sometimes. i look at random women on the streets, my cousins, and i wonder if i would have as many issues if i were them than i do now...and yes, i know, the grass always seem greener on the other side of the fence.
...i do blame some if not all of my issues on myself. my doctor said i am a perfectionist. a title my sister would gladly wear a crown for....she nit picks on details i find useless...i nit pick on details in my head until i am close to breaking...then never actually doing it.  and even with recognizing this, i cannot change. its just how i am...my head, creates roadblocks...sometimes i think, that if i were to ever lose my memories, i would be unable to gain the back, because my mind will not move away from the boulder written 'MEMORY LOSS' in my head. i will see nothing but those words, hear nothing but those words. but, at times...random memories pop into my head...and gods i wish they were the good memories..but they never are...and i talked to a friend about this particular memory, because it was killing me inside..and because i was told..."Lola, friends are there to listen and talk to you, you should try and open up" and not for the first time, i spit on these words. because my issues always leave my friends not knowing what to do...or maybe its this particular friend. i love him, you know, but we are too alike in that, we never know what to say...whereas, i am very eloquent on paper, and will fill your screen with nonsense that would make sense to you, i can never do face time...i don't know whats wrong...when asked to talk face to face...i become dumb. my voice disappears, and i find that my tongue decided to wear a sweater....but all the while, in my head...i am screaming out my issues...but i am just staring at you...willing you to read my mind...my friend...he is the exact opposite...i taught him how to give hugs :) and he is now one of the best huggers out there, just like clubbing, i dont do social hugging...or touching for that matter..so dear stranger...dont fucking hug me cause you know everyone i am hanging out with. so anyway...this friend, never knows how to reply to texts...im sure if i called, he would talk...but i dont know how to talk...and its an utter mess isnt it.
i forget what i was talking abut...again..i need to go, i need to get to work..i hate it...i hate the girls i work with, because i envy them...i am a student...they have security...they buy me lunch, and ice cream, because its not enough that they are overweight, i have to be over weight too. again. and you cant tell strangers...dont buy me a plate of that...lemme have my non fat coffee...then two hours later...when they buy icecream...ask for another coffee...you just accept and try not to dwell on how your stomach rolls.
...im my facebook...and possibly my mainstream twitter account....maybe tomorrow...if this feeling...this feeling that cripples me...because of a stupid memory doesnt go away...my brain needs a fucking break...euthanasia anyone?
its been awhile since i flatlined...and this calls for a packet of cigarettes on the beach, a floppy hat, sunglasses, and brightly coloured nails. ta

dressed pumpkins and gods of thunder

hiii!!!! it has been far far too long darlings ;) i can explain..
...FINALSSSS!!! my weeks have been filled with four hour sleeps, a million ounces of coffee, too little time for food, and a lot...and i mean, alot...of cramming.
..buuut....my semester ended on Saturday...in all honesty, it feels like a Sunday...despite it being a Monday...but its okay..it can be Sunday all fucking week for the next four months for all i care...its over!!

by the by....i know, i know, i have a pending post to post, its in my draft...i started writing it then i felt guilty about not studying for the Labour Law paper...and eh...had to leave it. i will post it later though :) i have four months to be bored....it will be some sort of list for myself or something..
....Sooo.....SATURDAY!! my final paper was on Saturday afternoon..ikr!! like urgh, who has class, and exams on a bloody saturday afternoon...especially when u live on an island?? well i do. and the morning before that, we had an advocacy presentation -.- where my group, a bunch of over-achieving ponces, decided we should all dress up.

who does that?urgh...
anywayyy...i never dress up..lol..eveeerrrr. unless its a wedding, or a funeral, or when i wake up feeling all femme and crap like that.
buuut...okay, some might disagree, hehe, cause of the abundance of jeans and tees i wear, but i know a thing or two about fashion...as long as am not dressing me that is...i can be an amazing stylist :P boo...what? stop looking at me like that!
moving on...i always thought i was born in the wrong era, the wrong town...i should have been born between the 40's and the 80's...i believe those were the best years fashion will ever have...from the underskirts, to the pearls...from the cigarettes, to the cars...from the music to the pornography  industries...those were the best years....from Grace kelly, to Audrey Hepburn...baby, those were the years....moving on...so anyway, because we had to dress up, and i had previously purchased a vintage green dress from this cute little store in the city..no really, if you are in nairobi, ask around for Closet 49, they have insane stuff, and their sales are to die for...very good place for lovers of vintage. i got the cutest little brown romper, and satchels...i am thinking of moving into that place.again, i digress...back to saturday mornings outfit...
an emerald green short dress, it had shoulder pads, that made my shoulders so straight!loved it! it had a gold leaf brooch...aaaahhhh....and a high waistline...with square pockets on my thighs...it was a bit big for me, but i didnt mind....
i wore it with white peep toe heels, a simple pearl necklace, and turned another looong pearl necklace into a layered bracelet...wore gold hoop earings and red lipstick...if i had braids i would have put it into two cornrows...but i already had cornrows, so i just put it in a bun

i cant get a picture that quite captures it...buut, it looks like this, i think...just green, with a brooch..the red dress, but shorter arms...minus belt. i dont have a camera :(
i got mixed reactions with it...everyone in school was like u wear dresses!!??? and lipstick

and i was all...psssht, ull get over it...
my other pal was like

wow.okay.
haha...buuuut i was like....my day has been shitty, so ya, im Margaret Thatcher crossed with Liza manneli...get over it.

no, really...my day became worse...and worse...and worse...
i didnt expect this post to be this long...but engh, i havent gotten to the point of this post...forgive me, if it rushed.
.....my Humanitarian Law paper was aiight..was done in one and a half hours..shocking..
then there's this little event at this sea side club, Il Covo, every month, we get a house trance gig...am making up for lack of BoTB, sue me... and i try to go every month, but this month has been werk, financially...problem was, some pals of mine were in town, n i couldnt go this Q-party, so i thought i'd go for SNL, and wonders of wonders...le mummy sent me some cash, yay!yay!for skin toners,and moisturizers..lol...but theeeen, my evil sweet sister, decided, oh then, i wont give u allowance cause mummy sent you cash...you horrid bitch!!!( i say this with a lot of love) if i had known, i wouldnt have bought the bloody moisturizer, my skin can go another month feeling like sand paper. and i had gotten like two six packs of beer, right, and like sijui how many packs of malboros...dont forget the spliff, and the pills.
it was a good week..i got high and drunk every night though..lol..seriously. i still had extra cash, buut, eh, i couldnt be poor again, and regret not being able to buy a mzuri pack f cigs cause i chain smoked on the beach. so i decided not to go out...
...one of my closest girl pals...holla Mookie, decided we HAVE to go out, n she was sorting it out...but we are both hustlers...lmao, yeah, am a hustler..ehehe...and the hustle wasnt going as planned, i was ready to call it a night by the way, or afternoon, but we checked in on another pal...this girl, is sooooo pretty...lol...and the teeth???she has amazing teeth!!!! really now, who has amazing teeth?? she stops traffic yo...i have to warn all my pals, girls and boys to stay away from her after they meet her...nhu...she wouldnt let me not go, so i was on welfare...not something my blood sits well with by the way...but i had gotten off so many parties, and come onnn, it was end of semester...so i gave in, just one beer, am not a heavy drinker.
...but then, my mum had decided to come back...to town...and i hadnt locked my room, and it was an utter mess...she doesnt mind my drinking...she supports it actually, but the one time she thought i was smoking...lool, it wasnt pretty...so i was jittery...and apparently you can't go out looking like Thatcher.lool. so i had to wear a dress that made me looking like a pumpkin in glasses..it was super short.
...nnnhuu...we hang out wit my boys....yeeeeah....i hustle and have boys.. :p
which involved alot of smoking...oh lord i was tripping by 8pm. and some booze...urgh, i am not a brandy person...Jack Daniels, red label...urgh..so i just stuck to my spliff...lots of it...i couldnt see straight by the time we were going out..
...the moment we got in...some acq. of mine and i started dancing while people looked for a place to chill out..i cant remember what i danced to :P
but i danced...alot..i only go out to dance btw...i dont do social clubbing...at all...if i wanted a pint, lets buy some, and go chill out at the beach or something.
plus, i had to bur off some calories...i had eaten possibly, my body weight in food.
..sooooooooooooooooo...the reason for this post...
this guy :P

there was this guy...omg...i am not into really big guys...and no...not fat...just tall...like 6'7 or something kinda tall...im a pretty tall girl, and my head was beneath his pecs...yeah, i felt them ;)
he has abs...and pecks...bigger than idk...joe manganiello...i kid not!! and the height!!!oh my fucking god...and he is soooo fucking gorgeous...urgh, it should be illegal to be that gorgeous...

like i said...taller...and wider than joe...okay, i cant upload a pic for some reason..
...so anyway...this guy right, was leaning on a post, watching people dance and some asses being thrown in his face..there was ass throwing...lol
my encounter with him....right..i was leaving the dance floor, after dancing with this bird that became my somewhat dance buddy through out after some mutual groping..hehe
anyway..so leaving the dance floor...there i am in my little world...then bam! i walk into a wall...thats how solidly built this god was! like thor or something...hercules!!yes..
so...instead of stepping away right, he circles his arms around my waist...and am dying and trembling vause my ovaries decided yes!!!!!! we want his babies! and i stand there, blinking up at him...not being able to stop the bloody quivering...and he holds me tighter right...whuuuuut!!! and grins, like...you okay??oh Lord...i would have died if not for my bladder..who has a voice like that???eish..
and i nod, n he lets go <oh why, why, why> lol....
he didnt go back to the dance floor for awhile, but i had forgotten he xists, cause that bird i mentioned earlier was gyrating pornographically against me...and i feel eyes on me...lol...but..i dont throw asses at people...no matter how godlike he was...nor how many times my ovaries broke into a musical number everytime our eyes met...and sadly, the only beach moments i had were when i went out to light a spliff....
but i know someone who had their beach moment ;)
nhu........thats why i had to write...i had to tell you...i have possible wank material for atleast another decade...ta!

sluggies bunnies and BAMFs

my internet personality is so shiny and amazing...but in real life i have the appeal of a flober worm...my social life is purely in my head...you would think am joking, but no...not really...and don't worry, this is not a pity party post...its not that time of the month yet. booyah
after establishing that...i should also warn you that this post is as a result of two hours of International Humanitarian Law. basically, might be a shite post. 
on and on...
everyone goes through that phase in life, where you feel like a superhero, like, you are so fucking awesome, what? there is always something to do when you turn...phone is ringing off the hook, potential coital partners all corners of the world...like really...you could snog anyone during this time and you KNOW they'd let you because for some reason...you are a cross between sexy beast and bad ass motherfucker...

and that's perfectly fineee. 
then enters those days when you feel like the slugs pouring out of Ron's Weasley mouth in Chamber of Secrets...or worse...gods you feel so blue, so gross, so aesthetically unappealing you dont even wanna see your reflection in the bloody mirror...because suddenly, no amount of concealer hides the fact that you have six...SIX different pigments on your face...who has that???? well today its you.. and all you wanna do is laze around on the couch in your jammies, a stupid kid's show...or perhaps its time to learn how to fucking knit...or something equally as useless like learn the rules of football.
..then...for others...there are those days you feel like this

who am i?where am i? why am i here? 
those days where you are sooo fucking bored out of your mind...you eat, have a wank, have a shower, wank, eat, have a shower, wank,....oh shuush don't act like you dont do it...Jesus sees you!!!!


for some, mainly me, and my somewhat surprisingly close group of friends...the days where you get utterly bored are more frequent than should be possible...jeez...


and here is my remedy...and it works for me...


check it out on my next post... ;)
 
 

boom boom boom

there's something to be said about loneliness, it sneaks up on you..
you're in a crowd of people, laughing, drinking, getting high...its late...and you wonder how it feels to have someone at home waiting for...and the minute ur walking home, in the cold, with a cigarette between your fingers...it becomes oppressive...it chokes, and suddenly you dont wanna go home, so you turn around, and go to a pub..order a pint, perhaps two, something that will make you pass out on your cozy couch

but then you wake up, and its a cold day when you don't have someone who puts the coffee on when you are late, you have no one to pull up the blanket on your sleeping form. loneliness settles in again, when the silence you usually craves becomes a bit too loud, you hear your heartbeat, you hear every breath that falls from your lips, nose, you hear the clock tick...the sound of the refrigerator running...it will have to be enough...its too early for you to think about it...you are happy...you have no one to nag you about the way you arrange your books. you look out your window to see a day bleaker than the turmoil in your bones. you turn away from the reality of it all

make a cup of coffee...light a cigarette, and dammit if doesn't feel good not to have someone complain about cancer.. you smoke a whole packet to celebrate.
its not a weekend, you have a job, there's no need for loneliness and financial woes, that's a sure ticket to depression, and that's a place you don't miss. besides, it's always better when you have money to drink away the shadows on your wall...drink to oblivion...enable the cancer that is slowly eating your lungs out. urgh, you turn away from such maudlin thoughts, you are perfectly healthy.
you get to work, bury yourself in paperwork.  you have no idea what you are filing, you just know it needs filing, even though it's not in your job description to file. the routine, keeps your mind off your empty apartment, off the zero texts and missed calls on your phone. dammit

it's lunch time when she calls,
"lets do lunch darling, i miss you"
"sorry, already made plans"
you did, make plans....that include half a packet of cigarettes, a bottle of water and your twitter account.
some might say you do nothing to ease your loneliness, you scoff, because really, what do they know?
you don't want to surround by people you can barely tolerate, people to fill in the din in the air...no, if you want to talk, if you need company you know who to call.
pull out phone,
" i fucking miss you"
silence
"yeah?"
"yeah"
"where the fuck have you been then?"
"i needed to think....or something."
"fucking wanker"
"yeah"
"i love you, you know"
"i know"
end the call...smile...take your bag and leave...he waits for you downstairs, pretends to scowl.
you laugh, and his scowl deepens, but you see his lip twitching.
you stand a meter away, you can touch him if you want, but you don't.
"how have you been"
you frown, that's not what you want.
"fuck sake Lola, how have you been"
he is angry, he never gets angry. you look up at him, hoping to God you don't fucking cry, because really, its been a shite three weeks. but you smile.
"its been tough, i miss you."
"you fucking kicked me out"
you wince
"don't curse"
he growls...you laugh
"boo. you know i didn't mean it."
"you never mean it' that's the problem you hellish bitch."
you laugh again, u miss him, with his messed up morals, he wont stand for you smoking, but the wine is on his tab

"i can't kick you out if you don't live with me in the first place"
he smiles...
"true, so...coffee? i know you didn't have any today. you look like hell"
"thank you, so do you."

silence...its comfortable, you like it.
its messed up your relationship,
you don't understand it yourself...
you love him...might have been in love with him in the beginning. he loves you, might have been in love with you in the beginning. but this is neither the beginning nor the end...and that's okay really, because this is way better than awkward fumbling when his girlfriend is not looking. and its way better than the bitter future that may have been if you had tried to be more than friends....because really, its the forever that matters...and you both know you would rather have forever, with its explosive fights, drunken nights, coffee breaks, rough break ups, hospitals...than a year of the best sex you might ever have,...because really, isn't that the difference?  you get the cuddles, and the missed calls..you get the flowers, and the fights, and the jealous outbursts, just like a couple would...you don't have sex...you have forever...and while there is still silence waiting for you at home, shadows on your wall..and a cold bed...you have the best man in the world to curse and bring you coffee, to call when you have a nervous breakdown before a presentation..and surely that's okay

explanations, running away

This is a little bit of a sinful break am taking for doing some work for my group discussion....
i have no post in mind however....just that...i had to do a little bit of asking people to read my blog..which i immediately regretted if i go by the furtive glance my friends are throwing me. so yeah...just might change the url to this blog...like i had to change the url  to my other private blog countless of times.. someone told me, when i shared the link to the blog, that she felt honored because my blogs were like exclusive membership clubs, where no amount of begging, or tit flashing, would let you in...she then proceeded to offer some tit flashing when we next meet, to show me her gratitude...i find i don't mind sharing my thoughts if that's how I'll be thanked..needless to say...its really stupid and shallow, and what makes it even worse, like in a sad pathetic way, that its true..my thoughts are my own, and every piece i might write, fiction or not, will have something a little bit raw, a little bit different, a little piece of me... i cannot even begin to explain how painful it is to breath every time i press the publish button..my heart is usually screaming, the little voice in my head is usually so eerily silent...and i know i might have made a mistake...because this particular voice never fails to express itself...normally in a voice that suspiciously sounds like Draco Malfoy's when he said " wait until my father hears about this"
..by the by...i should explain, maybe i will in my profile (FINALLY) that i might be a little crazy....
and hope my friends...acquaintances...etc...if they ever come across this blog after i change the stupid URL, like really, wtf is soshesa anyways?, won't be too shocked...who am i kidding...the little they know shocks them to no ends...a fact i am proud of if am honest...because y'all need that one mentally unstable friend, with a penchant for drama and trouble.
also...shout out to my first follower on this blog...remember...we are all crazy...we just pick our own sicknesses. ciao