kalischild

Hmm.

Perfect date.

Tsebhi Zegni, injeera and beer at New Eritrea on Irving Street.

Riding Dawn through Golden Gate Park on the way to the Noc Noc (Imagine if Tim Burton had free reign on the interior design of a beer and wine bar that played Massive Attack and Amon Tobin.) Cider and smoking and deep grooves.

Picking up cloves and .22's of cider at...
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Heh. I realized that it's not that I'm a bad drunk, it's that I hate everyone in San Francisco.

'cept my wingmen.

My posse and I got truly, sweetly sideways last night, and it was...So...Much...Fun...

And I kissed a girl.

I'm tasting one of my favorite emotions again.

That sensation of desire decanted after a long season of aging. It's strange how the mention of a city's name, can draw out memories of a certain girl's smile, her laughter, and her skin.

I remember Oceanside.

A name that summons up memories of bonfires, and drinking cervezas on golden sand, salt and tequila on velvet-soft lips,...
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I wrote Another Story.

This one is about a girl and a boy, on a beach.

My way.

For some reason, I'm thinking of magnets.

Turn them one way, and one is pudhed away feon the other.

Tun one, and the problem is resolved, the mahnets attract.

I'm thinking of magnets.

And of giving certain girls* head.

Shallow and deep. Deep and shallow.

That's me.
(For the sake of avoidance of drama, let it be known that this does not involve sisters or...
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I think the three sweetest words you can hear in a relationship are:

"I want you"

I think the three sweetest words you can say when you're single are:

"Not my problem."

And that's why I'm glad I'm single.

Somewhere, something beautiful is happening for the first and only time.

Somewhere, drops of water are falling into a pool of still water, in a cave by the sea.

Somewhere, she is burning brightly, with no cause for shame.

Somewhere, an old woman is dying, and a baby boy is drawing his first breath to scream.

Somewhere, someone is farther from any other person than...
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Due to the fact that I have suddenly found myself $2500 in the hole, I believe I will forgo leaving the house tonight.

Again.

Instead, I'm going to listen to Portishead, Depeche Mode, And Pink Floyd, drink rum and cokes, and finish writing my first love story, whish I feel I'm obligated to write, because otherwise it won't ever happen, even on paper.

So that's...
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Well, it's official. I don't leave the house, have lost any drive to have sex due to my deeply ingrained fear of others, and spend my evenings chainsmoking and listening to Old Cure.

I am officially jaded.

Or else I'm Fractal.