petiteartichaut

i hate when men try to tell me what to do.

summer of love is a euphemism for no one is going to put forth the effort to actually date you. being in the “single world” again is kind of nauseating and annoying, but it’s better than being heartbroken. see: boy-that-i-cared-for-beyond-my-human-capacity
it’s exhausting getting back into things.
i’m tired of playing your games. i just want you tell me what the hell you want from me. i don’t want to waste my time trying to think of clever things to say if you just want to fuck, because then we’d just fuck and i’d leave or you'd leave, and we’d both be fleetingly happy. i’m impatient, shallow and i don’t care.

so there he was.
really too attractive and hip to be good news anyways. probably should’ve seen that coming. i used to have a teenage crush on him and i looked up to him thinking he knew things i didn’t and that excited me. he kissed me, pushed me down and took me by surprise...he thinks i’m a bigger joke then he did before.
knows how to push my buttons.
and i’m too brash and get excited too soon and too easily. he doesn’t say much, but listens to me spill my guts (also a mistake)
usually i’m hoping for a reaction but only occasionally he throws me a smirk or laugh. i feel silly around him but i really shouldn’t because he is just as simple as any other man or should i say boy (hah spiteful) when we fuck. it’s surprisingly passionate for how unaffected and nonchalant he is. i don’t want to stop, and he sends chills down my spine.
i think i’m impressed by his semi-politically correct view of the world and the lame fact that he cried reading some favorite book of mine. i don’t know if those are romantic thoughts or just me being childish. but anyways i am too honest with him and he makes me dizzy.

i'm generally not needy.

he was what he calls a social smoker
which kind of confused me at the time because i was seventeen going on middle aged single hippy feminist. or so i thought.
he actually told me that he smoked because it looked cool.

are you joking me.

and you know, being seventeen i liked that. i thought that was being real honest, you know? like he was so raw and genuine for saying that.
after i finish a cig, and usually regretting it,
the smell wraps around my finger tips and clings to my hair and hovers around my mouth...i'll think about him. inhale.
i think once or twice i wished he smoked before he came to see me so that maybe his taste would live a little longer on my face. but why would he try to impress me like that?
he blew hot air out of his chest.
once i pretended that he told me he just wanted to see where his breathe could go.
no,
it just looked cool.

i like the way artichokes looks because they're vegetables, that want to be flowers!
i mean how cute is that.
and they have hearts, which says a lot because some humans don't have those.
i guess i have stupid reasons for liking them but i think they're funny.

something appropriate:
in french there is a saying, "avoir un coeur d'artichaut" which means "to have an artichoke heart"
an artful way describing one who falls in love easily

tonight i'm going to dream about someone sending me a bouquet of artichokes with a big fat bow.