OH NO I FOUND OUT PEOPLE READ THIS AND NOW IM SCARED TO SAY REAL THINGS.
Here are things that were drafts before and now they're public. Imbare-assed.
I don't know my fucking head from my ass and I usually don't know what hole I'm talking out of either.
If you hate what we do, quit looking. We're going to keep doing it, so you can either stop paying attention or continue to subject yourself to it and talk shit about it (because it's easiest thing to do). Do it to my face. I'm into that. There's not enough sincere critiquing happening around here anymore or ever. No one wants to call anyone out on their blatant bullshit or be subjected to the possibility of hurt feelings, god-lust forbid. Everyone is trying to save face/facade. I am not exempt. my ass is leaking. my janky ass meat curtains are flapping away. i just want to pound a fucking salt lick. OKAY I NEED A CIGARETTE NOW. NOW I FORGOT WHAT I WAS GOING TO SAY.
Hypothesis: I will not find what I need at a party.
Experiment: Attend multiple social gatherings in 4-7 hours. Socialize.
Observations: Occasional networking, increase in rate of cigarettes smoked per hour, exchange of jokes, ingested fluid, bodies: sexual frustration or not, hook & break ups, music often accompanied by dancing.
Conclusion:Confusion
I don't think I'm very good at parties. I don't know how to act/function in social settings. I went to a party and I think some of the people there might attend college. I witnessed and participated in the discussion of COLLEGIATE TOPICS
What do you want to talk about? I've got OPINIONS:
On Jungian psychology. Nietzsche's philosophy. Post-modern literature. Performance art. Modern shock value. Black comedy. Russ Meyer's exploitation films. Paraphillia. Socio-cultural perspective. constructivism vs objectivism vs humanism vs positivism vs realism. Gendered discourse. Drug culture. Pop country punk noise rock bands. Popular Culture. Nostalgia. Personal Experience/History. The INTERNET vs. TV. Existential angst. ET CETERA. ET CETERA. ET CETERA.
Still, I'd rather not share them with you. Because I'm scared and stupid.
So lewd jokes, jaded cynicism and poppin' wits are the old-standbys.
I just want to have a good time and get fucked doing it.
i bet neurotic chaotic insomniac agoraphobics make awfully awful roommates. there's a lot of things i want that i haven't figured out how to get yet. like, i want to sell dick for a living. when i said i think of sex i meant i dream of you. when i'm in your dreams i don't tell you you're in mine too. i exhale secrets through cigarette smoke. these lifetimes are a pocket or a seed or a chain. i ain't got nothing but it. you say 'let's make this last forever.' i say 'take care' when i really mean 'fuck me'. i shut the fuck up. please SHUT THE FUCK UP. i walked all day with your cum in my cunt and cried in my pizza. keep your dick down my throat so you've got nowhere else to go. give me head or give you death. your tongue works harder than my heart. she would be nothing without him inside of her. dick me, dick me so hard i can't scream: some girls scream sex; i can't even whimper. &i'mn't quiet. i want to be it-girl. i want to be that girl. i want to beat that girl and i sweat and i don't get mad, i get manic and i don't get sad, i'm synthetic. my mama was a beauty queen, my daddy is a deadbeat. mama said 'it hurts to be pretty.' mama knew being pretty hurt. i heard pain is pretty. i get caught up in the personal romance of it all.
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