Disenchanted ( Read more... )

I offered him a ride home if he would let me take him out for coffee, but he couldn't think of any place other than Dunkin' Donuts that was open. He invited me over his apartment for tea, instead. I had a huge mug of earl grey and we listened to Frank Sinatra. He asked me to dance and after four songs in a row, we made love. Except we didn't know ( Read more... )

Oh, I have poetry up on www.thewrit.org under 'Workshop' and then my name. I stole some things from friends. I hope you don't mind that I don't credit you. Nothing you come up with is original, anyway, and it helps lead to points in my poetry. It's kind of funny that I take your points and make them helpers to mine. Ahh, sharing. That's what this ( Read more... )

Hey guys... I know I haven't updated in a really long time. I have my own apartment for the summer. It's nice. I have two roommates I don't know, but they're sweet. They've never lived alone, though, and it shows. They don't clean up after themselves thoroughly and I have a tough time living in an unclean environment. I'm pretty sterile, I mean ( Read more... )

Matthew: frankly, i'm impressed that you're still speaking to me ( Read more... )

"Let there be light! Oh wait, that's the outside light. Just call me Mr. Anti-Climactic."

"I feel so airbed. Airbread! BRAINDEAD!"

"You're special. Hee-hee. Special."

"Who wants to join me for a shower tomorrow morning? Wait! That's not what I meant!"

"I don't say funny things."

I hate my poetry.

(in reference to his three poems): one is up at the writ if you want to see ( Read more... )

Two of my friends just called me and sang "You Are My Sunshine". I cried.

His enthusiasm hides beneath the covers, frightened to frozen tears of the nightmare life will bring him. He shields his pretty face with wintry eyes and a smile that says more than he wants it to. Hush, baby. There's worth, here. Take the clear plastic film off. You aren't fooling me. (I know you're not trying to...)