I noticed there’s a lot of ethnic looking girls in Justin Bieber’s new video. Well from the teaser I gather that there’s an eclectic mix of models in it. Can’t be mad at that. Plus, Justin is looking real cute.
I wish a normal girl would magically appear before my eyes and be totally into me instantly. We’d run off into the sunset… or my bed, whatever, and be together. At least, for a little while.
Various parts of my body keep falling asleep.
I love this song and can’t wait to see this video. Rihanna does get on my nerves, but I like her songs and her personality reminds me of my friends and how obnoxious we can be.
Someone broke the washing machine so I can’t wash my clothes which is really unfortunate because I haven’t had time to wash clothes for the past month since I got back from New York.
I’m not particularly interested in clothes or getting dressed up anymore, especially because I have to walk 25 minutes to Bart and getting super dressed up just makes me hot and subsequently annoyed. We have a visit at work tomorrow so I need to get all tooled up for work. These beezies really make me annoyed with their obsessing over what to wear because the CEO or something is coming. Being dressed cute doesn’t really have a reflection on the work being done, especially when people are somewhat incompetent anyways. Ugh.
I want to get a kitty from the shelter because I’m pretty sure that majority of the apartments that I’ve seen in the last two weeks are super okay with pets! So basically I’m on cloud motherfucking nine. I want a Calico because they’re sassy and quiet, like me.
I really want the weather to just make up it’s mind because I don’t have a lot of pants that fit well because I’ve lost like 10 lbs in the past couple of months mostly due to stress and being extremely sick the past two months. It doesn’t help that I can’t afford to miss a day of work when I’m sick either, BUT HEY AT LEAST I’M SKINNY. </sarcasm>
Living alone will be nice, but it’ll be lonely? Nah it’ll be legit.
Sex with Michael is unexplainable for the simple fact that nothing of substance really goes through my mind during it. I wonder if the window is open and get angry when I realize it is. He always forgets to close the window before we go to sleep. The breeze fills the room and dries the tiny trails of saliva he’s left upon my face and chest. His face is between my legs and I’m distracted by his cat attempting to hop onto the window sill, unsuccessful after three tries. Sleuth is skittish and gives up easily. He walks past me, the end of his tail grazes my foot that is hanging lazily off the bed.
Michael kisses me and despite everything his lips taste like Burt’s Bees. He has the softest lips. Softer than mines, I always think. He always takes his time kissing me. I’m reminded of his perfect teeth as I trail my tongue along the inside of his mouth. His mustache tickles my nose, but I don’t mind it. I enjoy the feel of the hair on his chin against my neck. It’s slightly coarse yet comforting and makes me think of my grandfather’s stubble. A thought that is weird under the circumstances.
He has soft hands. Months ago I shook his father’s hand and it could be something genetic. I wonder what kind of soap he grew up bathing with everyday. His fingers are smooth and allow me to dismiss the fact that I hate being fingered. It makes my toes curl and my stomach cave, uncomfortably. But his hands are soft and they never probe, they mean well. I got waxed last week, she shaped the triangle slightly askew though I didn’t complain. It’s just hair. I wonder if he’s even noticed. Most likely not, but who really knows.
I like being on top because I can get a clear look at him. His blue eyes look empty in the lack of light. Dark and little, half closed—nearly hollow even. His mouth, ajar as if he has something to say, though nothing comes out aside from short breaths that accompany the faint squeal of his mattresses. I wince when he grabs my hips tighter because the unexplained bruise on my hip is still tender. Purple and menacing, it looks angry and it feels like I deserve it. Michael’s chest is warm underneath my palms and even with the shallow light coming in through the open window I can see the red spreading from his neck, down his chest. He sighs and I kiss him. His ear is cold and I kiss that.
I’m tired, yet can’t sleep. I listen to his breathing, a quiet hum that is beginning to engulf the space of his room. I want to close the window, but I’m unmotivated.
Deactivated my Facebook
It’s not a big deal, but it feels like a little weight is off of my shoulders. I know it’s not the case for most people, but over time Facebook has become something of an overwhelming attempt to stay connected to my friends. Or acquaintances that the internet deems as my “friends”. I’m tired of reading everyone’s menial updates and feeling obligated to mention what’s going on in my often times slow life. I’m in a post graduation stagnate part of my life and I’m discontent with people having access to that.
There’s to much accessibility with Facebook, between posting on your wall, invites to stupid things and those god forsaken messages/chats. I need a break. Hopefully it will entice me to get out of the house more as I have become more introverted in the last months. Maybe it’ll also inspire my friends to communicate with me on a more intimate and direct level.
We will see.
