Desultory and Impulsive

[y=mx+b]

Can't sleep

Wrote a post

Fucking inadvertently deleted it

But I still remember the last line I wrote!

Wanna know what it was?

It was exactly this....



Ready?











Are you sure?






It was this--Fuck I wish I knew how to better cope with my ineptitude.

No fucking lie.


And here's the goddamn drawing I fucking found myself getting bored with doing while trying to sketch myself back to fucking sleep rather than take a fucking ambien.

Lesson learned.

 

[LizzieEr]

I do not; however, detest you
No
You make me feel
And want
And hurt when I hurt you

And that is why it isn't easy
Why you will never ever be dead to me
Because I never again
Want to feel dead to myself.

I am sorry.

To comment on this feels like such an instrusion. But this, this is perfect.

 

[y=mx+b]

To comment on this feels like such an instrusion. But this, this is perfect.

Thank you.

But perfect would have been not having had a reason to write it.

 

[LizzieEr]

Thank you.

But perfect would have been not having had a reason to write it.

I accept your statement. I think that the definition of "perfection" varies. To me it's perfect just to have a reason write it.

 

[y=mx+b]

I accept your statement. I think that the definition of "perfection" varies. To me it's perfect just to have a reason write it.

There is quite a bit of truth to this.
So much so that I feel I must agree
Therefore, I do.




In retro news....

A long time ago... like around 2005, back when only like... 3 people and a troll even knew I existed--which pretty much is the case in this modern era as well--one of those 3 people of whom was actually pretty cool to me in that she was one of the first to do a pretty good job convincing me that I'm cooler than I actually really am sent me one of her random PMs--she no longer posts and disappeared altogether as far as I know. Which is weird. One would think we'd still be in touch. But we're not. Not that we had anything going on. Because we didn't. Which may very well be why she faded away.

...anyway.

In her pm she said something along the lines of how she imagines me being like David Gahan, the lead singer of Depeche Mode.


Now I was in the midst of saying "fuck you!" when I re-realized that in all fuck-all-honesty Violator is one of perhaps 3 albums I can/have to listen to start-to-finish all without skipping a single song.

And that I actually like the guy. Don't know him but if he were to call and be like "hey... coming out to chill be there in 10" I'd be like "pick up a frozen pizza on the way" and he be like "k" and we'd sit in the living room staring at the TV on mute, not talking as we waited for the pizza to cook.

And so instead of saying "fuck you!" I said something like "I'll take it."

Or maybe I did say fuck you just to be difficult.
Knowing what I know of myself I probably did.

Because I kinda am.














































Which is why chicks love me.

 

[y=mx+b]

In motion.

 

[y=mx+b]

How am I to explain to you...

Null and void

 

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[y=mx+b]

Not where...

 

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[y=mx+b]

And it made me feel....

 

[jezzilee]

I don't feel that way at all. I adore pushing back my orgasm. If I just let it happen as soon as it is ready to, I climax mainly below the belt, but if I slow it down, and hold back over and over until I can't any more not only is there a humongous difference in sensation, but also I feel it in every fiber of my being, my brain literally loses connection with reality and squinting is reality. A freakin mazing.

 

[Conager]

I fucking love the sounds of panic a woman makes as she tries to keep herself from making them. The squeaks. The quick accidental exhilations. The scuttling of her appendages against the fabric of our clothing.

The vertebrae of her back cracked with the sudden expulsion of air from her lungs when she finally caved and found herself on the ground. My dick in her face.

Of course now I faced the challenge to get her to unclench her jaw so I could explore her throat with my cock.

Never an easy task.

Fucking women. Always gotta make everything so fucking difficult.

Word.

 

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