...sweetness, sweetness I was only joking when I said...sweetness, sweetness I was only joking when I said...now I know how Joan of Arc felt...big mouth, big mouth, big mouth strikes again...now I know how Joan of Arc felt...
Do not worry, once again I took a step back from the gun I had pointing at my face.
Not for you.
Not for me.
Not for anything.
Just because when it all passes nothing seems to matter enough for the effort.
Even as I stuff myself full and think of the way they looked at me, even now...I am in love.
Love with who Kaila, you might ask yourselves?
...Hey! Been trying to meet you, mmmmmm, hey! Must be a devil between us or whores in my head...whore in my bed...but hey! Where have you been...if you go I will surely die, we're chained...we're chained...
Well my children, I will tell you promptly.
I am in love with no one.
It seems that when I tell anyone, with a serious heart, that I care about someone...feel any pang of jealousy upon someone else wanting them too...they say something along the lines of "you like everyone" or "you can not expect everyone not to like anyone" this is the devil. This is death. Let's break it down, the reason I seem to like or talk about so many boys, is because I am searching for love, for romance, for companionship. I am looking for someone that I have something in common with. So about half the boys I have spoken of are ones I fell for for those reasons or others. The other half are boys I fell into, meaning ones that liked me. When someone likes or shows interest in me, because I am often lonely and love sick, I tend to momentarily fall for them. Especially when we have something in common. But I am old now. Old you ask? And laugh at my lack of years. I mean that I have been through nothing yet have the memories of an old woman. I am aged and my poor body and heart can take no more of this stress. The body wanting, the heart needing, the mind ruining. I just can not take it anymore. Because now, I really start to care. No more are my lusts crushes, they are something more. They are truth. I love no one. I love my friends, I love a past lust. But there is nothing more there. I like two. But it is more that I know how cool and wonderful it could be if we were both in a different time or the same, and the other I care about as a person because he is awesome. So as you see, I am not obsessing about anyone. I am alone, and I chose for it to be this way.
Other thing on my mind. Why must we judge? I think this ties into the overall search for a companion of the youth of today, and they judge because they are really just comparing themselves. I think some see beauty as the one test of how much love one person deserves or from whom. I think mine is an acquired taste sort of beauty. I think on some days many can call me cute and agree. But I think on most I am a sight for a special few. Ones meant to want me. If you have ever liked me, not wanted me...I can be a terrible and accidental flirt due to my inability to flirt with those I like (my flirting is a sick show of obnoxious harrassment)...my talking to those I am not interested in seems like flirting (or how it should be)...you were meant to. I think that things happen for a reason. The first was to teach me to never change myself for a boy, the second to show me what love would be like when I was ready for it, the third to teach me that I need someone to care equally for me, and the fourth was to show me just what I want in a man...because he had it all. Now this may seem silly to you, if #4 is so great, why are you not with him? Is it because he turned you down? No, not really. It was because by the time I found my #4, I was a little broken...and he was a little taken over by a mountain. I will not go into it because I do not want this small scene of a county to figure out who is who. So now, my number one is the devil...and I would never fall for him again...and I never did (the first love either is always in your heart or on your list of who to eat alive). My second is coming home to me, my best friend with something hanging from the crotch...we do not know what will happen there, probably nothing more than friends that want to be allowed to love each other terribly. And my number three is my friend, who I trust with my all...with a bit held back. My number four is nothing. I like what I know of number four. Number four is a dream of what I want. Number four is a charcoal in my sketch book, a letter in my hand, a cut on my heart, and a tear on my neck. I would wait forever for a number four. If not mine then another. Number four is the cream of the crop, and that is all I can say. But, I will add that to speak to number four of things like love, you must wait an eternity.
So it is me, and my Clash...rocking out and doing vocab.
I am going to a wedding this Saturday...at 4:30 in SR. So date of mine, you know who you are, I tried to call but you were out. I will call you tomorrow after my classes to tell you that we will pick you up. If you still wish to go, you do not have to, I know you might find something better to do. If not, tell me tomorrow so I can find a replacement.
I need to get a hold of Jon to tell him to tell one of my many failed husbands sorry for my behavior and my poor attempt at making him swoon with loud and annoying babble.