coffeelove

So, I'm going to London in April to celebrate my birthday. Got MrBubbleWrap to come there to celebrate with me! Trying to convince other friends to come too, I mean.. I'm turning 26. I'm getting old!

Now, I've seen most of the sights the last time I was in London, so this time.. Fuck, I'm going there purely for shopping and drinking and.. yeah well...
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Sometimes I wish my sex dreams would be less strange, and more pleasing.
I dreamt I was a man, some twisted male form of myself. I met the hottest chick ever, I mean, she was a ten and up. Completely gorgeous.
I somehow talked her into sleeping with me, and I was on top of her, pulled down her skirt and.. she had the biggest...
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I want my period.. And I want it now..

Gjesp.

Ethics and morals.. I have ethics. I don't always follow my ethics. Meaning I have bad morals. Unless my ethics are awful, in which case I am a saint.
Anyways. It isn't always so bad to follow ones desires.

'I am going to die a virgin'
'Afraid that ship has sailed darling'
'I can pretend?'
'Mm I'll let you. But then I will pretend to take your viriginity from you when we fuck'

In that case.. Can't wait to fuck him

I'm sleepy, it is early morning and the sun is shining in, illuminating the room. A ray of light sweeps over my face and I slowly start to wake up.
It's warm and comfortable under the cover, half sleeping I curl my toes and purr happily.
Maybe I'm yawning and stretching a little, rolling around in bed. The noises from the kitchen tells me you...
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I imagine you on top of me, on the couch, your weight keeping me pressed down.
Your lips brushing over my neck, softly teasing me, you have your hand tangled in my hair, you pull my head back hard.
Keeping me like that, I am unable to move. You know this is my achilles heel.
From the moment you gripped my hair I am dripping...
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I'm a proud cocktease.

Cause no means no.

Anyways.. I'm google-stalking the most sexy man I've ever met. Seriously. Hawt as hell.
Every time I think of those glorious arms, the veins running down his arms pumping blood, those giant.. paws he calls hands. I constantly daydream of having him on top of me, his shoulders block out the light, fingers tangled in my hair...
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I don't want to miss you. I don't want to miss you.
I want to hate you and everything we did.
I want to hate you so bad.

Quitting smoking while cutting down on meds for panic attacks probably wasn't all that great since I've felt all sorts of panicky this weekend.. But..
Day 4 without cigarettes. Am NOT going to let my anxiety win and make me start smoking again.

Found an old suitcase full of things I made in kindergarden and in general that time when I was little and adorable.
What do I do with it all? Do I keep it all? Keep some and throw away the rest?
And the things I keep.. What about that? Just keep it in another suitcase and discover it again in 20 years?
Man.. all this...
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