choose your weapon...

Movies (4) Photos. (47) Poetry (16) Quotations. (76) Words (15) Writings. (137)

Thursday, May 27, 2010

"I would like to give you the silver branch, the small white flower, the one word that will protect you from the grief at the center of your dream. I would like to be the air that inhabits you for a moment only. I would like to be that unnoticed and that necessary."

Sunday, May 23, 2010

fishes.

Most of the new men I’ve encountered lately, remind me of fish-sticks. Molded into row after row of the same damn shape… mushy, pre-cooked, tasteless, and unseasoned. With standard yet questionable origins, they are manufactured to fit perfectly in that freezer friendly cardboard box. Adorned with flashy colours and arrogant one-liner catch phrases, they can be plucked from the shelf and into the cart with one or two effortless movements. Sure, there are several different types to choose from. Box A is healthier, Box B will save you money, Box C is conveniently located and Box D has that awesome cartoon ninja plastered on the front. So many viable options and alternatives to choose from! Or so you think… until they’ve made it out of the store, into the oven and onto your plate. Then it takes exactly one bite to realize that a fish-stick, no matter how appealing it may have seemed when you hand picked that particular one… is still just a fuckin’ fish-stick. No amount of tartar sauce is going to appease your now-shriveling taste buds, and somewhere around chew number five, you’re already trying to indulge an appetite that doesn’t exist anymore. Pleading for that elusive smoked salmon, or impossible lobster, but willing at this point to concede to some anchovies, or even a can of flaked tuna. Maybe what they say is true, and maybe there are a lot of fish in the sea, but too bad the majority of the world doesn’t even own a fishing pole, and instead, we simply buy the fish that have already been caught, processed and packaged for us by someone else.

Don't ask me to wake you up, unless you can handle me doing it with my mouth.

Thursday, May 6, 2010

"Sex is like music. For every person who pays for it, there are thousands more getting it for free."

Saturday, May 1, 2010

black and white resurrections.

world, meet rachel - my favorite character to date.

Jack got me to obsess over it, before any offer had even been made. The maybe’s and the might not’s had me fighting for air within seconds. “Maybe he wanted to fuck, but maybe not. He might not be thinking what I’m thinking. Maybe this is a bad idea, I might not know what I’m getting myself into.” All good reasons to listen to the voice in my head, and ignore the one in my vagina. Doubt seldom leads anyone to follow through with greater conviction, but my vagina is very persuasive. Hesitation itself is only a distortion of reality created to allow fear to dominate your decision, without guilt. A perfect self-delusion accepted in a way that seems entirely reasonable. Rational even. “Trust your instincts,” they say. “If it feels wrong, don’t do it.” Such perfect sheep nip, to keep the herds up to morally acceptable standards. Not the wolves though. I want to cross lines, I want to give in and succumb to the sexual tension’s demands. He’s rich, and good looking, has a myriad of pussy available to him at anytime, is exactly 30 years older than me, and I want him. It takes exactly one more sip of beer to convince myself, that the attraction is mutual, lock fear back into it’s lonely little corner, risk it all, and roll the fuckin’ dice.

if you happen to be a billionaire...