Very Bad Things

I continue to surprise myself on a daily basis. What I think I can't - I actually can do and feel good about it after.

I like combat boots. And casual conversation. And pda, apparently.

I could go into more detail but I really don't want to. I could tell you about drinking copious amounts of whiskey with friends who write poetry, or Weezer dance parties in my bedroom, or a beloved traveler returning home after a journey afar. I could tell you about the Silver Dollar and kisses and streetcars. My blonde hair and his nearly black. But I won't. Details tend to eat people alive.

But above everything, I think I was really honest last night. Like I put the fucking slaughtered lamb on the table, for lack of a better image. Seriously, you just get what you want when you're sincere and you tell the truth, even if the truth is slightly twisted, a little tragic but nontheless quite the agent of arousal.

~Lo

My sister asked me how my night was and I said I did "very bad things" but I'm quickly correcting myself because they were actually very good things; well they made me feel good anyway. And essentially, who in God's name has the right to determine what is good and what is bad, if other than myself?

Also - I think AM was the most intoxicated last night. She's fantastic!