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sentatious and livacious and you ARE my very favorite girl
9:09 a.m.., Wednesday, Jun. 30, 2004
Sam is hiding under my bed. T is at work. Pat is off pouting somewhere and I don't know if salmenella can live in a crock pot. I DO know though, if you make every muscle in your body sore, and all at the same time, you are just far less likely to do anything energetic for at least a while.
In other news, the morning is warm, the lawn soft, and somebody down the street has a brand new Mustang. The cool kind. With the ragtop. I want that car. I wonder if I might canive a ride at least. We'll have to see.
Did I mention I have a new friend? I do.
yes, it's a girl. Duh.
Why would I want another male friend? All they ever do is spiral down into this miserable heap of fat and acid. Fuck that.
No THIS friend has optomism. And hope to, in case you missed my thinking there. And she can write, and she DOES. And she likes me, and she trusts me. I think. And we tell each other stuff, that no one else wants to hear. And she's cute and sexy too, but I won't tell her THAT, 'cause you know how girls get when you tell 'em shit like that... and she lives by the sea, and sometimes i think maybe, she dances when no one else is around, and she wishes, she could be more fun. But the secret is of course, is that she IS way more fun than she might be able to see, what with life all being like it gets...
And see, the thing I found myself thinking about this morning, while taking a dump, is that I am the lucky one that gets to know her. That gets to hear what is on her mind. That gets to smile when reading about her life. I'm the lucky man that has been invited to be her friend.
And you all. Have not.
And this saddens me. Because none of you will ever know what you have missed.
Poor you.