Nude Thoughts 7
I can’t say I’m interested in your non-stop story about how you make money, fella. It’s kind of blah. As in blah, blah, blah. Listen, doesn’t it occur to you to stop talking for a moment and ask me a question? Like, have a conversation? I told you I once dated a guy in a wheelchair: don’t you think you might ask me at least one question about it? Jeez, my jaw is aching from keeping up this smile. Why do you think I should be interested in you when your interest in yourself seems to be all the interest you need? Listen, if you don't stop right now, I'm going to suggest you go talk to a rock. One thing you can be sure of: you’re more likely to cop a feel from a rock than from me, dude.
posted by Adam @ 10:55 AM
1 Comments:
This fake smile that I have chizzeled on to my face is hiding what I am really thinking, isn't it?
I appear beautiful and sexy and bold in this nude pose, while underneath I am really feeling such deep pain.
Pain from my bony ass sitting against this rock,
Pain from hunger, but I will not eat.
Pain from having no real control of anything, even though I pretend to have it all together.
Do you want me? If so, be prepared, because I come with a big heap of emotional baggage.
Do you envy my sexy image?
I hope so, because holding the pose of this illusion is killing me.
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