I just realized that I don’t want to sleep with the boy’s friend, at all. I mean, kind of, but that would definitely be the kind of affair that wouldn’t last past the relationship it destroyed. I’d just be sitting there wondering the whole time if it was worth wrecking things with the boy just to get his friend’s dick, knowing full well that it wasn’t… just like he’d be doing if he fucked the beached whale. Trying to pretend that it was all worth it, so he didn’t feel like such a fool, pulling out all the stops and diving headlong into one of the worst ideas he’s ever had, just to try and justify ruining the best thing he’s ever had…
Tag: Miss Jackson – Panic! at the Disco
Should I walk to work?
I don’t respond well to stress. I wake up fine when there’s nothing for me to do, when there’s nothing for me to hide from. It’s when I most can’t spend the time, can’t afford to fuck up, that I force myself to sleep late, reject calls on my phone, and wrap myself in blankets wondering if I’ll oversleep rather than just get up and make sure that I don’t.