I feel oddly bereft tonight. Like some ignominiously wretched thing just bit off a big chunk of my heart. I feel like I should be mourning my heart. My poor, tragic heart. It... it feels quite sad. Morose. Glum. Pathetic, really.
Am I subconsciously mourning the death of my pseudofantasies, that golden idea ensconced in my head of what my life was supposed to be? Because no little girls dream of this. No sane little girly princesses dream of this. This is a mess. A sad clump of fears and cartilage and spasmodic nerves and dreams.
Wtf. So wretched, Lia, so wretched. I'm not very decisive. I'm like that pubescent boy standing outside a brothel. Staring at a curtained window, wishing, shamefully salivating. Wishing for something dirty, wishing for the actualization of his dirty, wet dreams. Wishing for an ass to spank and tits to squeeze. But he just stands outside. In the wintry cold, for dramatic effect. Or maybe the wintry rain. I would say whilst clutching a wilting bouquet of flowers, but I'd only be pandering to the icky exigencies of societal archetypes.
You're so pretty, I can't stand it. I can't even look at you, sometimes.
O, phoo. I'm like the girl who cried depression!
Am I subconsciously mourning the death of my pseudofantasies, that golden idea ensconced in my head of what my life was supposed to be? Because no little girls dream of this. No sane little girly princesses dream of this. This is a mess. A sad clump of fears and cartilage and spasmodic nerves and dreams.
Wtf. So wretched, Lia, so wretched. I'm not very decisive. I'm like that pubescent boy standing outside a brothel. Staring at a curtained window, wishing, shamefully salivating. Wishing for something dirty, wishing for the actualization of his dirty, wet dreams. Wishing for an ass to spank and tits to squeeze. But he just stands outside. In the wintry cold, for dramatic effect. Or maybe the wintry rain. I would say whilst clutching a wilting bouquet of flowers, but I'd only be pandering to the icky exigencies of societal archetypes.
You're so pretty, I can't stand it. I can't even look at you, sometimes.
O, phoo. I'm like the girl who cried depression!
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