“I think the fact that most men look at love with disgust, is because they look at love only in terms of relationship. Love is transient, many times fleeting, and almost always depraved.” -livingnowalways
I’m in a very brooding, hopeful mood. I feel as if tonight is the calm before the storm, and I feel like things..scary, perhaps larger than life, loom in my imminent future. Perhaps they’ll be career related.
It’s exciting, yet terrifying, because every moment in history, in my Present, needs to be valued. Britney Spears didn’t get to where she was by drinking every night.
Ironic, but true.
Penned on a brisk November evening. Published tonight. (That isn’t correct, I wrote this all tonight. I just think that blurb makes me seem like a literary genius.)
I’m on the precipice of wild success, I can feel it stronger than I ever did. I almost feel a need for structure, perhaps to precede the coming week, to stabilize the madness. Perhaps tomorrow I’ll go swimming, then head to the premiere of “Fat Sick and Nearly Dead.” Healthy eating people, healthy eating.
WHY AM I SO VOLATILE?
I was at a bar last night. I met a girl with short blue hair. Within a moment, we were dancing together, her body pressed against mine. It was somehow more electrifying than such a thing ought to be. The music continued and we got more intimate. My lips pressed against hers, moving as one on the dance floor, oblivious, yet aware of our surroundings. Some places are so public, it’s essentially private, as no one notices you. Decadent? Sleazy? For sure. But certainly not cheap and meaningless. We moved outside for a smoke. Pressed her up against the wall, my hand slid down from her neck, under her dress. Two people. Strangers. LIVING. In public of course. Or private. Like I could give a fuck.
Not something I’m normally into, but this one was super cute, and not goth. Small black dress and heels. It was a great night, needless to say. When something about a girl excites me, something about her is different, is unique, is strange, especially something like short blue hair, it brings out the best and the worst in me. Some say it’s love, yet I don’t fall in love with a girl in one evening. It’s not straight up lust either. It’s a combination of a sense of adventure and knowing that in a weird way, I’m writing my own history. I want to be able to look back when I’m 60 and say, “I really lived. Really really lived.” Being involved, or in a relationship with a crazy, miniature blue haired girl, is something that would make it all worth it.
I’m laughing, but deadly serious, and aware I may be in serious need of psychological help, but proud of it.
I could cry, I get so excited about moments like these. I’m ALIVE, how many people can say that??
I’m not drunk and I didn’t smoke up. I am high off I have no idea what I’m high off, maybe it’s life, maybe it’s the buzz from the beer I didn’t have tonight, maybe it is all of the above.
If I had her here now, I think I’d have meaningful, intense sex with someone who is as of yet still a relative stranger, so I can express my feelings.
Maybe I’ll call her now.
“Real love if something so real, so concrete, that when it happens, it takes over and recreates your vision. I believe love can be fleeting or permanent, but real love is driven by both people. Driven in a way that neither of them can stop.” -livingnowalways