A Black Feather, A poison pen... ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- \"Oh, It's called love, and it belongs to everyone but us\" Tonight was baby-steps. I knew not to expect too much trying to go out and do what i used to do after five and a half years of alternating between clinging to or being trapped by the ideals that have had me living like a goddamn monk. Of course there is also that time has changed and there are fewer people out there willing to operate in such a reckless way anymore as well I made the decision once, on a hot summer night, after one of my wilder encounters, that while the flesh was still willing, the soul was looking for more and that "disposable fun" as Depeche Mode put it, was no longer what i was after. In what had to be the most disturbingly, stupidly Catholic thing i have ever done, i traded feast for famine. Really, in all truth, what business does an inane, hedonistic brainstem-driven creature like me have trying to "hold out for love" I finally understand what Deb was trying to get through to me. Of course, part of that realization would leave me feeling insulted if i didn't understand it as well as i do. Most of all, i understand that faraway look she'd get sometimes listening to this one New Order song.
3:40 a.m. - 2003-03-30 ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- |
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