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femmeemo Living Dangerous. - Subscribe

I hate how disorganized I've become.

I need to motivate myself. Holy shit. I am on my way to Las Vegas in a few short weeks to party like a rockstar. I'm planning a haphazard March roadtrip for a weekend. I need my muffler to get fixed so I don't kill myself with CO2 poisoning while driving.

I need to finish moving my shit out of the Hellhole, and into the ghetto. Nellus and I are roommates like nekkid lezzies only dream of. Well...
When we're both home that is.

The Shaun situation is questionable. The Spencer situation is even more so. My upstairs neighbor is cute. And boys are making my life complicated.

I just want a boy that I like. To watch movies with. To snuggle on cold mornings. To enjoy butter chicken and silly dancing on my living room floor.

On who will bring me a single daisy for Valentine's Day, but not for that reason. But instead... just because.

One who doesn't only think of sex, and understands that it will come with time. That right now... It's just sort of...

Not in the cards.

I really only want things that are frivolous and yet meaningful.

I want to have a boy over for tea. To discuss the finer side of civil unrest.

I want...
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1 Comments
Mood: Played.
I Hear: Mother Mother, Oh My Heart.

femmeemo Confused with a capital S. Feb 19th, 2010 4:53:57 pm - Subscribe

But don't worry it's a silent 'S'.

Why are all these stupid fuck boys all 'S' names. I'm short a Simon, Scott and a Skylar and I think I might've been persued by every 'S' name in the world.

All I want is simplicity. Contentment. It truly bothers me how dependent I've become on my phone lately. It's mostly healthy, but theres been a few moments where its' more than entirely self-destructive. Take Wednesday night for instance. I was so anxious to hear from you, that I literally made myself nauseated. I had to shut my phone off. OFF. And leave it at home so I wouldn't check it every thirty seconds.

Its' disgusting, and yet. I'm the only one doing to me. No one is even forcing this upon me. Just my snakey self pulling the rug out from under my dainty digits.

I watch myself banging my head into the wall repeatedly, brain matter washing down the white facade... And what am I getting out of this except a vicious headache?
Nothing.

But, maybe...

(The real answer here is nothing)
But...

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1 Comments
Mood: Slightly Pathetic
I Hear: Gods' gonna cut you down - Johnny Cash