Fuck that fucker he is over-complicating my brain and has me thinking how much is enough? I think I might have had enough. It is very plain that I adore him despite his almost infinite flaws. It is very plain that he possesses the unique ability to pull me inside out and scatter my innards across the Sydney basin any time he chooses and the problem is he chose today.
I telephoned him in a happy moment thinking to say hello and see how he is. He is with Mr X doing some sort of stupid cricket thing but he was walking as he was talking to me and waxing silly and I had to keep yelling What! because I could not understand what he was saying. Soon after that failed conversation I was listening to Lou Reed and and sent him some silly Lou Reed lyrics about honey bears shaving their hairs. His reply was odd at best and downright fucked at worst and as an aside at the very end included "I don't think I can do next weekend either, will let you know."
I don't know what he is doing to me but I don't like it. I don't like the way he pushes my buttons. I don't like the way he is always in my head. I don't like the way his message punctured my carefully constructed gas cylinder of emotion. I don't like the way I am throwing things and raging around The Peach yelling without reason. I don't know what to do.
I telephoned him in a happy moment thinking to say hello and see how he is. He is with Mr X doing some sort of stupid cricket thing but he was walking as he was talking to me and waxing silly and I had to keep yelling What! because I could not understand what he was saying. Soon after that failed conversation I was listening to Lou Reed and and sent him some silly Lou Reed lyrics about honey bears shaving their hairs. His reply was odd at best and downright fucked at worst and as an aside at the very end included "I don't think I can do next weekend either, will let you know."
I don't know what he is doing to me but I don't like it. I don't like the way he pushes my buttons. I don't like the way he is always in my head. I don't like the way his message punctured my carefully constructed gas cylinder of emotion. I don't like the way I am throwing things and raging around The Peach yelling without reason. I don't know what to do.
Comments
if you are to follow on the Lou Reed tract then you must hit him with a flower and you must do it every hour.
Rups :)