manunkind_not

ok, I'm bored ... and I think I've run out of things to whine about lmao
college apps are over! so my college essay is useless here; my friend's together with Mr mariah carey (they're adorable); and everything with josh is the same as it'll ever be.. lmao that is I'll still be here thinking about him and he'll still be .. lmao where ever he is doing whatever he's doing *whatnotwho*whatnotwho* (hey one can hope)
annnnnnd it's 4:30 am I should probably go to sleep

The men on the dock could catch up to twenty big fish a day.  I never caught one.  One might call it the longstanding failure of my childhood. Every summer night, for years, my dad and I would pack up our poles, our borrowed lures and make our way down to the dock.  The real fishermen, retired cops and construction workers, denizens of this barnacled pile of drift wood, would humor my dad as they packed up, telling him how the fishing was and maybe lending him a few more lures.  It never helped though; my dad was as hopeless as I was.

But I was happy to have never caught a fish.  Now, this might be explain by my saying that I have since become a vegetarian. I have my reasons and it was a long time coming, but I consider that to be a superficial excuse at best.  I don’t even believe I ever made the connection at that age between catching a fish and killing a fish, partly due to my inexperience at catching one and perhaps due to my own naiveté.   

No, I was happy because those fishless nights gave me my questions - useless, silly, impertinent questions that I loved awfully and would cling to harder than my pole had a fish finally come.  You see, fishing is horrendously boring to a ten year old if forced into silence.  It is unbearable, like having a fly land on the end of your nose. You know that it is not doing you any harm but still have an irresistible urge to swat it off.  Consequently, I spent hours asking questions.  My dad and I would get into heated debates ranging from the pros and cons of eating babies (an uncle once mentioned “A Modest Proposal” to me -much to my parent’s horror- without quite fully explaining the idea) to exactly why boys must line up separately from girls at school (I always thought it was terribly cruel to discriminate against them simply because they had cooties). 

These ridiculous, inane questions have stayed with me since childhood. And they have taught me to question this ridiculous, inane world we live in.  They have become a source of amusement and learning, of play and discipline (my bread and water).  At an early age I discovered that just because something is known does not make it true or at any extent reasonable.  The cat was not killed by curiosity but merely by its inability to express it.  I was saved the cat’s fate, I never caught a fish.

I hope in these days we have heard the last of conformity and consistency

This guy asked one of my best friends out by giving her a box of chocolates that said "All I Want For Christmas Is You"
She told him "You Can't Always Get What You Want"

(lmao this isn't supposed to be some bad attempt at poetry or writting, just me ranting)

I like Josh.
I'm attracted to Josh.
I fantasize about Josh.
I also never call him Josh.
It's sad really, how much I think about him, how much I want him. At this point I'm not even sure if I'm sexually attracted to him. I don't want to fuck him. I want to kiss him, I want to makeout with him. I want to talk to him and flirt with him. But mostly, I just want him to hold me. Just lay with me curled up in bed. Our kisses are always slow, our touches soft. When I think about dancing with him it's actual dancing; him holding me close as we sway to the music.
I want him so badly that I'm not even sure if it's him I want anymore. Maybe he was just an innocent bystander, the first thing I saw and took hold of. I don't think that I've mentioned that i can't actually HAVE Josh. Josh is funny. He's smart, he's adorable, he's hot. He has short hair that I've imagined raking my hands through and muscled arms I've seen hold me close.
I want him but he could be anybody. I need him but he doesn't want me.
I want to kiss him so much that licking my lips have made them chapped. And wanting him has made my stomach ache.