Thursday, July 23, 2009

Portable Hole.

Sexify yourself.

I will dress in the costume of a bear and dance seductively for you. Do you have a rough wooden pole upon which I may gyrate? And do you seek companionship from a bear-dressed woman? Respond post-haste to me, and we shall convene. Gee. Being a masochist sure ain't easy.
When the night strikes, I'm all alone and when soppy songs are put on repeat, I have this strange feeling that I’m not myself anymore. It’s hard to put into words, but I guess it’s like I was fast asleep, and someone came, disassembled me, and hurriedly put me back together again. That sort of feeling.
I figured that, the most difficult phase of life is not when no one understands you. It is when you don't understand yourself. I wish I didn't care so much.

I wish to be an old philanthropist. Someday. One day. It shall come.

1 comment:

  1. You dress to kill. You should've devised a telepathic scheme to acknowledge your presence in the suit. The pole dancing wouldn't lure even another bear to accommodate your masochism.

    The night comes yet you keep yourself beneath the shadow of the moon. None other could have known what you are, what puts you together. You sleep in silence to eliminate your woes. You knew there should have been more ways to suppress yourself yet you keep your doors shut. Look outside the window and you tell me if the moon isn't shining at you.

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