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sora wonk
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11 hours asleep
I'm all nervous and caffeinated and busy.

Sunday night angst; I want to be pink haired and scooped out. Where am I now?

I finally broke up with the man of my dreams. Smashy pink shades. He last texted me last Friday after a month of silence; the point of discussion is cheese. I can't d code if I should delete the screenshots I have of his selfies in a wife beater telling some other girl, "someone should fix you."

I've spent a long time disabusing myself of things I could not help such as a habit of love bordering on obsession, an obsession for information, an inability to forget and an inability to judge or to move on (to throw away or to give up hope or to be unfaithful)

Ideals ideals ideals

I'm seeing another guy now who is in some ways much better as a human

But now thanks to my last first love all people have apparently become disposable? There is a glitch; an inability to comprehend, which is so rare for me when it comes to things about people and their heads. It must be

A mental block.

My new guy is sleepy and fairly responsible. He will fetch the towel and fix the toilet and make a pretentious tea in rococo porcelain with Vivaldi on his MacBook and himself in a dress shirt and underwear, a pair of palm trees in the corner of his studio.

There are good things.

I do not know I guess how to step back from love to friendship; how to let go and how to try something new. I never wanted to, you know. He was what I wanted. Now I am let loose and I don't want to enjoy this kind of freedom at all.

******** you Angelo.




 
 
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