Right now I'm reading Slaughterhouse-Five, if I haven't mentioned that yet. I thoroughly enjoy this snippet.
A few things have happened and I don't know what to think about any of them, the usual.
I lost my L V card the other night on the couch. Wide open for anyone who walked out of the beaded hallway, kissed by the day-saving moonlight and uncovered windows. The softest thing I could have imagined. It's not that I expected more, I just expected something quite different.
"So beautiful," she said, as we lie there half naked, our warm bodies next to each other, anything but sticky and sweaty, but soft and velvety.
So going to the Lexington Club was a great fucking idea. I can't help but lose control on my impulses and I can't help but feel innocent (or ignorant?) to the situation I'm in. My friend before anything, an experiment on my part, and so it seems like something more on her part.
"You have an amazing body," exchanged mutually, soft kisses in between, up and down arms and pale bellies and necks. Sensibly positioned arms embracing my vessel remind me to stay calm as my heart beat expands out of my temples and chest.
And so I got what I've been wanting. Now I can say that. Now what? Two more months in the city and back to suburbia (great movie, by the way) for no more than three. And then what? Back to the city, my home away from home, always my home - I have to stop trying to deny this. I have to come up with my own opinions about my situation, that's why I'm going home.
My mom is coming up this week, on Thursday actually. I have to clean the apartment and deweed it, entertain her and try my hardest to change her mind on my insanity. My poor mother, almost everything I do is for her yet I refuse her. Stiff as a rock that can shatter like glass, and the bell jar descends.....
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