August 26, 2010

The booty call is back on the scene. I became the nurse, the love giver, the nurturer. I liked it. I like him. I should not fall for my booty call. Not the right move, man. The thing is, his father has terminal cancer, he's going through a rough moment, I felt bad for him and the truth is, I like the guy. He might be all fucked up, he's not the most reliable person out there, but he makes me laugh and he has a certain je ne sais quoi.

I lie. I know what it is. His energy draws me to him. He's an incredibly talented musician, he's an incredibly talented artist, it's just all scattered and in some small part of my being I feel like, I can be that person who makes him into this amazing creature, this amazing being, this talent.

But who am I to be the cure? Why should I be the person that helps him. He's attracted to me because I am this warm, comforting being. He was all fucked up, bags under his eye, emaciated, a yellow pallor coating his skin when he came over on Monday. He didn't leave my side for three days. He shaved for the first time in a long time today.
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Been having completely R-rated chats with a Frenchman of unknown origin. I don't even know how it started, but please don't stop. We chat on blackberry chat, he's always demanding my attention, regardless of whether I'm driving or not. He barely respects the boundary or the cease chat I place when I'm in a meeting. I'm enjoying it all in some peculiar, odd way. It does turn me on, how could I say no? I doubt he's coming down, so what is a bit of internet flirting, teasing? he sent me a picture of his dick, how could I not enjoy that move? I sent him a couple of myself in my undies, half naked, hair disheveled. Those pictures were not intended for him, but what does he care? All he sees is an attractive woman with a huge ass. Bingo!
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Odd confession of the day: I look at people's profile pictures on Facebook and then when I feel I've had enough (usually a gut feeling or a sudden inclination) I look through my own profile pictures, in a way trying to decode myself, my intentions with certain pictures. What was I trying to say, to convey?
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I've seen my bosses penis, but the other boss has handed me toilet paper after I've been caught on the throne sans TP with my pants folded at my feet, so I guess we're all even steven karmically speaking (i.e., awkward situations).

Welcome to the club. We should stock up on tampons and kotex.


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