( Read more... )

RoyalTherouxness

know it. use it. love it.

Leave yours here, otherwise I will never talk to you (unless you are one of, like, four people I find essential to add).

*real entry soon^, thanks for your patience

^if I feel like it

hahaha blucas...in a bag.

I wish Bob Barker would have sexually harassed me.

 Out on the balcony, we looked down at the dark, the red lights passing every once in a while, timed with the changing of the lights at the intersection a half mile away. I wondered about this night, suddenly filled with the remembrance of crystalline breath out of the mouths of new friends. We were so alive. I was so alive. I thought, though, of, ( Read more... )

I breathed deeply in my dream, letting the colors and feelings and insignificant people of my past swirl into a cyclone that entered my lungs and lifted me above the ground, above the air, above the stars, wandering and lost in the wilderness of the night sky. My subconscious illustrates a wonderment - what vines grow in the rich soil at the back ( Read more... )

Sipping a mocha and smoking a cigarette, I sat in the patio of the Coffee Bean and Tea Leaf on La Brea. It might as well have been the end of the world, as I looked out on the city, the wide streets in front of me bordered only with palm trees and condominiums. Each interlacing street was a different road to a different demise, a different ( Read more... )

Sex is so odd," I think to myself, picturing my legs up in the air the night before and looking for a place to sit down in the Barnes and Noble off 14th, because I'm half hard from looking at the latest issue of XY Magazine. But the second floor is too crowded with mothers in DKNY and Jewish teenagers killing time between classes in liberal arts ( Read more... )

Whenever I have to wake up early in the godforsaken morning, I stay up ridiculously late. Each minute that goes by leaves me saying, in my head, "just five more." And I think about you for just a minute or two, before realizing it's been five, no six, no seven. You are the perfect person, the one in my head. I cannot see your face quite ( Read more... )

“Intimacy,” I said to myself, shuffling in bare feet and underwear through the kitchen, “turns me on.” Over the next few minutes, I colored in Cap’n Crunch’s moustache with a black sharpie and groaned in slight agony from the light inside the refrigerator. I stand there for too long, with the door open and my eyes closed, waiting for an imaginary ( Read more... )

My fingers were tethered to the pages of the book, as smoke wafted, as would be expected, down the Soho street. The sun was hiding behind the building against which my shoulders touched as I balanced on the back two feet of the French provincial meets Andy Warhol mod inspired patio chair. Thirty feet away, in the alleyway which one cannot see ( Read more... )