sweetiepiefuckface

Getting My Grub On
2002-06-14 15:22:16 (UTC)

The Fall

Justin Trudeau. My crush from back in high school. My
friend Erika's brother. He did not know that I desired him
from the bottom of my little high school heart. So, last
night, he is the object of my dream. I have not thought
about him in years, and now he is invading my sleep. What
power!

The desire in the dream was intense and unshakable. I
wanted him, and he knew nothing of me. He was hopelessly
oblivious, someone who needed saving. Tragic. I woke up
shaking, stewing in my own unrequited juices.

Oh, The Fall. Slipping sweetly down, down. Death is the
ultimate metaphor. In what ways could we ever surpass the
permanence and transcendence that holds Death's hand? To
love with such fury and abandon, and to not have that love
realized... What is that, but if not a small death?

It is like falling. Tripping. Colliding. Screaming.
Losing. It is like losing.




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