What do you think about when you think about fucking?
My book for sale.
I’m not sure why I have this fascination with staring out my window, and gazing at the city. But I do it enough.
The city’s cool wind blows in through the cracks of the door and it caresses my naked feet and legs.
I stand there, so small, so insignificant and bare.
The light pollution still dimly lights my room, even from this high.
I’m just looking, maybe for something,
maybe not, maybe for a clue for what to do next.
I’m tired of routine and my legs ache and I’m so exhausted, but I hate to waste time sleeping. So I stay awake thinking.
All I’ve done the past three days is think.
I have decided to be mostly alone because I think it’s better this way,
although I may be miserable at least I’m not hurt.
04/17/11
(Source: petitefox)
