Sometimes it’s a little Bull but it’s always nice to carry on that way, right, dear devil-sent ambassador from the heights of i know not where?
I would like to see myself twelve years from now with a new car, bought purely from my sweat, and play in a new band with some fancy guitar. Have a little kid with a mother that’s well bred, oh, and a peaceful, stable life with dreams of a holiday vacation in some country that requires a Visa, or a country house here and there. Of course most dreams go that way, not all however, are fulfilled, but all the same, dreaming is free, why not get a slice more than I could actually chew.
The ladies I’ve met I tend to forget most of them but some leave a big impression on me after all is not a man made by the women who charms him? The best thing, however, is that all these games of seduction are really productive, they mold the minds of the young whether they shall be possessed of an oversion to a second shot of vodka or they would end up drug-dealers in some fishy town. The ladies, oh, well, I was left doing silly blogs.
It was 1999 and I had my first kiss, funny how the topmost floor of the schoolbuilding suddenly looks so picturesque. There are clounds and angels and crows and seductresses wearing bunny hats and colt 45 revolvers. The lips were red, I’m not so sure if it was mine or hers.
I blush. I shouldn’t talk lightly of such things. After all, one little injudicious comment gives birth to a devil cave of gossip. Then there will be counterfiet stories about me and they will echo throughout the funny september air.
I blush. I am young, after all. There is something called hope, the twenties, emphysema, extended childhood, and an ageing car.
