eidolon

As of yesterday, ties with the X of these last 11 months have been totally severed.

Of course, there's more to the story. There always is.

Still-
The man in the black suit who manages the velvet ropes to my heart has informed me that her name is no longer on the list, and she will not be granted admittance. Sorry, babe.

No more lurid tales of morally questionable (though exquisite) sex acts and their consequences.

Time to find a new vessel of sin and begin, once again, the beautiful process that is torturing myself in the pusuit of her love.

It's a sad moment when you look at the clock and realize that nobody's called you 'daddy' in 72 whole hours. Don't cry for me. I'm already dead.

Soon, anyhow. I've never been a big believer in the rebound relationship. If both (or all) parteis are not on the same page, it's nothing but trouble. Somebody's gonna get hurt, and not in the good way.

This will be my 1st tenure as a single man in the city of Chicago.

*As relief washes over the boy, he goes shoe shopping.*

I am, now, the proud (maybe?) owner of these boots. Damn straight.
They are much more red in person than they appear in the picture.
Was the sales woman at Fluevog flirting with me?
I like (ne, need!) to think so. She did touch my shoulder and tell me I looked like a rock star. Depending on the musicians she knows, that could, indeed, be a compliment.
I know she wasn't just pimping boots.

Hit my music!