please, please, please let me get what i want

"baby is it sweet, sweet, sweet, the sting?

can it heal where others before have failed?

if so then somebody shake, shake, shake me sane."

- sweet the sting, tori amos

 

 

*****

tori's on his mind and in his lips right now.  because she's right.  there's no reason to fear the end of that scorpion's tail.  it could be dark, macabre, as things unknown always appear from the safe distance he keeps out of h-e-s-i-t-a-n-c-e.

 

thus he resolves to look at this second-hand emotion as if it were all around him, and all over him.  he decides to feel, act, live as if he were complete by and with just himself.  to enjoy the moments when he can be with himself, to let the silence define his every part, even the ones that ache.

 

let the walls come down, and a thousand faces parade in his mind.  he is ready.  let it sting.  he has a choice to either hurt or revel.

 

*****

 

we took off on the wrong foot.  *** ** ** **** *****? ** pffftthhh! ************** evil throughts unfit for publication ***************** even more evil thoughts **************** *stop giggle*  * **** ***, *** ******* ****** *** ***** **** ***** * ***** ** ** ****.  ** ** ***** * ***** ****'* **** *** **.  PERIOD.

 

*****

 

how is it to sleep with butterflies?  i guess you have to be tender and very nurturing, open-hearted and sensitive.  butterflies are so delicate. one wrong move, like, say, a heavy hand or a wrong turn and you could end up crushing them. 

 

*****

 

so this is how it is to be under tori's spell.  all sense out the window, coherent blog entries impossible.  possibilities entertaining but terrifying.  only the craving for coffee insists, a categorical desire, a rather expensive therapy.