This night could not get any worse. Seriously.

I turned twenty-one on Sunday and I celebrated with a virus, which I still have. No drunken stories, no forgotten events, no nothing. To be honest, I am not in the least disappointed or upset about such an event.

The thrill is gone, lover.

girl meets life.

I jumped on the bandwagon.

I am back.

.

My mind is spinning around and around, as if it has been thrown into a washing machine on the rinse cycle.

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Before a night-sky backdrop, in a seedy alleyway, a girl's back is pressed against a grime-slick brick wall. There is a mouth hungrily licking and kissing against the curve of my neck, as her head is cocked to the side, to allow that mouth more skin to suck in between its lips. There are hands, everywhere; underneath a torn, denim skirt, tearing ( Read more... )

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Returned with a heavy(ier) heart.

The day has been long and the night even longer. My eyes are bloodshot and ache from fatigue. I am on the verge of emotion(al). Tomorrow will be better, I promise myself. The weekend trip was great. Today, when we arrived back, was not.