Like A Crab
Dancing. Dancing to mediocre music. An event of strangely dull nature. A series of moments lacking the normal intensity. This is the first Sin City I've attended while emotionally stable. No great elation, no great release. Just dancing, random girls commenting on my hair, seeing people I wasn't expecting to see.
Waiting. Waiting while actually good music played. Combichrist. Bastard. Discussing the roots of my supposed madness. Triggers and moments lost, perception.
Filling out my alphabet, seeing Amanda. Being unable to find Tyler. Leaving on a SkyTrain. Don't tell me how to run my fucking relationships. Getting ready, realising that Eugene takes a surprisingly long time to get ready. Leaving.
Les Belles Soeurs, proof positive that the opposite of a sausage party is just as bad, although possibly funnier. Laughing, footbag, Jay. A superbly cute couple.
Meghan, whose name somehow sums up the daylit hours. Toss in words of food, pasta salad, pakoras. Spice to taste with window shopping. Serves 1.
Written On: Home Computer
Comments
it was good to see you...
Posted by: amanda | November 13, 2005 4:25 PM
Hey, in my defence, what took so long was me putting on makeup (the nail polish & eyeliner), which as I recall neither of you elected to do. If I'd decided to forego those, I would've been ready in a jiffy.
Meh, regardless, I'm a gay boy. Spending inordinate amounts of time getting ready to go out runs naturally in my blood.
Posted by: Icarus | November 15, 2005 1:15 AM