16:52 okay, fuck it, let's talk right now.
Because the truth is, I had some experiences while I was out there.
1. in which the narrator finds herself beset by two tanned and muscular river guides
2. and of course there is one of them who looks at me piercingly with eyes that EXACTLY match the eyes of the San Francisco photographer (not matched by shape or by color, but by their desperate and flagrant display of their owner's desire to have his heart trampled upon by my self)
3. (and later I was to find a daisy chain in my pocket)
4. The other one wanted simply to fuck me in the sauna, and I agreed wholeheartedly that this would be an excellent course of action.
5. Cock blocked by Mr. Desperation 3000, who singlehandedly and deftly maneuvered all parties back into their respective corners.
Back against the wall, Ogma found herself with time to consider, vaguely:
Why is it that I choose so very badly? Of these two (boys? men?), only one was blessed with extreme good looks, and one with extreme intelligence; one with a slacker's grin and one with a riverfront property; one whose attempts to attract me were halfhearted, while the other pursued me actively. You can guess which one of these two has my phone number and standing invitation -
and not once during the entire experience did I feel the need to mention E, who waits or doesn't wait for me, but who certainly is shackin' up in my absence. Who is unable to bring himself to commit to anyone, myself included, and whose comments to others - when I overhear them - often tell me more about our relationship than he would ever tell me himself.
So,
How come?
And I think what it is, is that I know I haven't found the right person for me, not yet.
I think my inner reasoning (mainly, and you may feel free to factor in any other pertinent reasons [such as the twisted power one feels when manipulating the well-meaning heart of another, and the powerlessness one feels when being thusly manipulated] to this equation) is:
If you're gonna be wrong, at least have fun while you're doing it.
What would I want with a nice guy who is obviously smitten with me, if I know right out of the gate he's not someone I can truly, passionately love? A girl could end up married that way.
I'd much rather just go get fucked in the sauna.
today I read
isabella's sad sad demise
1. in which the narrator finds herself beset by two tanned and muscular river guides
2. and of course there is one of them who looks at me piercingly with eyes that EXACTLY match the eyes of the San Francisco photographer (not matched by shape or by color, but by their desperate and flagrant display of their owner's desire to have his heart trampled upon by my self)
3. (and later I was to find a daisy chain in my pocket)
4. The other one wanted simply to fuck me in the sauna, and I agreed wholeheartedly that this would be an excellent course of action.
5. Cock blocked by Mr. Desperation 3000, who singlehandedly and deftly maneuvered all parties back into their respective corners.
Back against the wall, Ogma found herself with time to consider, vaguely:
Why is it that I choose so very badly? Of these two (boys? men?), only one was blessed with extreme good looks, and one with extreme intelligence; one with a slacker's grin and one with a riverfront property; one whose attempts to attract me were halfhearted, while the other pursued me actively. You can guess which one of these two has my phone number and standing invitation -
and not once during the entire experience did I feel the need to mention E, who waits or doesn't wait for me, but who certainly is shackin' up in my absence. Who is unable to bring himself to commit to anyone, myself included, and whose comments to others - when I overhear them - often tell me more about our relationship than he would ever tell me himself.
So,
How come?
And I think what it is, is that I know I haven't found the right person for me, not yet.
I think my inner reasoning (mainly, and you may feel free to factor in any other pertinent reasons [such as the twisted power one feels when manipulating the well-meaning heart of another, and the powerlessness one feels when being thusly manipulated] to this equation) is:
If you're gonna be wrong, at least have fun while you're doing it.
What would I want with a nice guy who is obviously smitten with me, if I know right out of the gate he's not someone I can truly, passionately love? A girl could end up married that way.
I'd much rather just go get fucked in the sauna.
today I read
isabella's sad sad demise
2 Comments:
At 11:15 PM,
Anonymous said…
This is a heartbreaking classic.
But I think I missed the plot. You didn't get fucked in the sauna (yet) ?
There goes Ogma Chan Chan's Magical Comment Box which makes everything I say sound at least 50% bitchier than I intend.
At 12:05 PM,
ogma said…
PS I fixed it, spitwads n spackle, but it should hold.
Post a Comment
<< Home