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There are no songs for this - La Petite Mort [entries|archive|friends|userinfo]
Spinning 45 Ballerina

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There are no songs for this [Apr. 24th, 2010|06:17 pm]
Spinning 45 Ballerina
I won’t get the guy, I thought I might. His interest in me might be only corporeal or only intellectual, at this point I can’t tell.

Well he is just a link in an endless chain of depressed boys. The only fish in this small pound I found interesting enough to pursue. Smart boys are few and far between.

I had a dream; it changed how I felt about him. That's the way it always goes, I fall in love as I sleep. He used to be just my friend who sometimes made me cringe. It all started and ended with a dry hump, first in my dream and now in real life. Why do my crushes end in drunk boys jabbing there crotch at me? Just standing there, casually humping me. My voice filled with hope “Do you want to go outside for a cigarette?” “No”. Cruel, whenever he says the word, enjoying it a little bit to much. So I moved my legs so he couldn't get to them.

I’m at work now, actually working. One little faggot couldn’t be bothered to come in so I have to take his place. I wish writing this entry didn’t have to take up any of my free-time but I guess it will. Sigh.

but I know I'm one in a million, trouble is he might be to.