Saturday, October 6, 2012
fantasy, lies and the tax breaks for rookies
One of the worst headaches I've had in a long time but one of the best nights in a while. My flashes were acting up. I was using something different then usual.. It annoyed me. Pictures were inconsistent! think it might be something to do with the receivers. It was awful out there. People were fighting. People were acting up. Long week end. I saw this check stop, on 98th ave, it was massive. All you could see was the skyline and 30 patrol cars flashing in front of a "Check stop van" that sat on the bridge. What a shit show. This city is coming back to life. The Boom is coming. I got a text, it was funny I got it as I got home. It was a girl from school. She's someone I've been infatuated with. And she likes me. She is much younger then me, but she's also a single mom with a daughter. Kinda forces me to imagine raising a girl. I can imagine how quickly I would change my attitude about women. This Girl that texted me asked me if I was still on the ave. I told her "yes". I was there as fast as any hack can beat the street to bake pancakes. Eight minutes passed. I was there, and so were they. It was such a dangerous night. They left a group of people that knew me, that saw me pick the most beautiful girls up, to take them home. It quickly became a fantasy. They took me to their house. A home with nothing to fill it but college girl problems. It was a perfect home. Downtown. Fucking prime. One of the girls had just finished fucking a basket ball player in the backyard. She looked beautiful. The one that liked me squeezed every ounce of story out of her. I heard all of it. It wasn't very erotic, it ended quickly. There was another girl there. She was a virgin, innocent, she liked one of the other basket ball players. Form the sounds of it, he was as new to the scene as she was. Fingers were involved, nothing pleasant. They talked about fucking, I was entrenched while the girl that liked me kept drinking. She looked gorgeous. She's hot as hell. She could have any basket ball player. I can't drink with them. We can hear a third roommate fucking downstairs. It's a house filled with women not one older then 22. I couldn't have been able to pursue her, drunk and magnificent, I heard her scold another one of the girls. They all needed attention. I wanted them to talk amongst one another, together, like men. They talked about fucking. I was intimidating, it was cold outside. Their place was a fortress and their sex made me feel as though I am insignificant. I've always been here. Head in flashes.