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I spent the last two hours reading back on all of my old posts, from conception forward. Reading my pithy words, and pseudo-intellectual babble made me come to a startling conclusion. That even without the happiness, and the depressive state of most posts, I had something then, that I no longer have. I no longer have hope. All of the posts I used to spill out used to be cryptic and lovely, yearning to be accepted and for the possibility of love. Recently, I just seem to exude some pathetic 'adult' life. I don't have the silly hopes of a crush-ridden teenager, and don't have the lust of a newly found sexual being. Instead all I have is a slew of happy memories, and the capabilities to move forward and do something worthwhile in life. Right? Right?! We're all given that capability, and somehow I have lost it. I want to have the forbidden. I want the excitement of emotion, and rush of adrenaline when skin brushes against skin. I want. And want and want and want. - |
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I want an apartment filled with kitchy tack. I want to wear hot sunglasses and take happy cold Montreal photos. I want to maybe go on another date with Shaun. Maybe watch Eagle vs. Shark and play Ninja Turtles. I want to party like its 1998 in Vegas. I want to party, and dance, and look good. I want to feel good about myself. I want to keep feeling good about myself. But. Sadly enough, What I want most of all... ...Is to crawl in bed with the sweaty boy that doesn't love me anymore and have him hold me until the morning hours break. - With a life with so much to offer, its defeating to thing that we will always want what we can't have. |