Love letters

The unusual display of affection. Words are an art form of them selves. They are the side door to the soul.. The intimacy of a written letter. I dream of getting a love letter.. That piece of something that means someone has time for you.  Time to sit down and create feelings with hand written blurbs from the heart.  No eraser, no spell check. If done in pen... Permanent. Actually I use letters a lot, it helps me get my feelings out... It's not always the best idea.

I'm going to give old romance a chance.  It's worth a try, I need some passion  soon.  She said it was on his list.

Today was beautiful.  Breakfast first with a lovely lady... Some browsing in Mission San Fran. The fabric store inspired me... I remembered how I used to sew all of my dolls clothes... And after seeing Diane Von Furstenburgs watercolor clothes sketches... I'm going to make my own French girl dresses... French girl with a modern east/west coast flair. To stand out, yet blend in.  

I love our phone conversations.. It's a feeling I haven't had in awhile.  Just hearing his voice brings a smile to my life.  He sang me songs and reassured my doubts.  I miss him, I miss our time.  Soon though I believe we will be together, that is a thing I've wanted for some time.  I think we know already that we will coexist well, we've already tested the water. For now it's cool to the touch.  He knows me well... I think he misses me too.  It's quite a feeling to know you are loved, I hope I can return the favor. 

last day.

the instance when all the space is occupied with flesh, not one inch went to waste.  it was a good feeling to be one with another... the skin of our numb bodies together in an action of sorts.  i'm not sure where we were going with this.. but the feeling was priceless.
all the songs added together... unfortunately i was being strange and don't remember any of them.  i also was so distracted that my black tank and leather leggings were the least of my worries.  instead i traveled around with the fur and sound... writing poems on the kitchen floor.  at three am ... offers bounds of inspiration.  too bad all feelings hurt.. even the tears are like needles that stab deep into the soul.  i'm just no longer even interested in looking at other souls.  for no one... the dress up game is for you.  the mystery of material.  the love source of alittle lace... the instance when you realize that the bra you decided to wear is just a bit uncomfortable and a few scars will never stop you...

(excerpt from the lingerie diary)

cigs.

the beauty of it all is the innocence.  sex isn't everything.  as a matter of fact...it's the ugly side of intimacy.  the moment when you have given too much of yourself... you are exhausted and it just doesn't feel good anymore.  the thing is... it's so childish.  everything feels so good with him.  laying with him feels nice... our bodies fit together well.  i wish that i didn't need to be so out of it to fit with him... i'm just a strange creature these days.  it hurts he doesn't understand what he does to me.  nonchalant.  the charm in the simple matters.  it is what it is really... a simple young longing.  the chemicals do good for my body.  they help keep me inspired, keep me alive.  keep me needing more.... thank you.