heaviness.
The only thing I will say about my holiday weekend is this. My dad knows I've been a customer at the adult store in springfield. Yes, I know, I know what you're thinking "No, surely, not YOU." Oh yes. I suppose it is time I admit to you all... I am a pervert. So, my dad, brother and I are driving from here through springfield, heading for the big cornfield in which they live. It was dark. And I wasn't paying attention. So I hadn't realized that we had already gotten in town when my dad says " oh wow, that place is packed." it being the middle of a fucking BLIZZARD, i inquired what the place was. he got all weird and said "oh, it's the um, you know, springfield's 'adult' store." (and yes, the article is correct; sadly, there is only the one.) to which I replied: "oh, I didn't realized it was orchids because I couldn't see the paint. i can't believe all those people can fit in there, it's so tiny."
(orchids is purple, and let me reiterate that it was, in fact, dark. and yes it is very very small.) at this point they both look at me, obviously not sure how to react to what I've just said. Dad gets a look of total hell on his face and goes back to driving. Ignoring my stupidity, apparently, the best way to go. My brother... taking it all in and being cool as hell as always. Now my father knows I am a pervert. great.
You, of the soapbox, said something tonight that struck me. The bit about the relationship being wrong but the product of it was right. Yeah. I know a thing about that. And it's the product that makes it all worth it in the end. We all know this.
A face can tell a lot about a person, this is true. I, for better or for worse, am afflicted with a very young looking face. While I am sure I will appreciate this twenty years from now, I am tired of getting carded, and people asking me when I will get out of high school. And yes, I am conpletely serious. That sort of thinking doesn't last long though. All I have to do is open my mouth, and my age is at least proven to be beyond the days of sweet valley high. I've also, always known I was more mature than everyone else my own age. Which again, was a bit of a curse. I always wanted older friends, older men, all of which were problematic; for very different reasons. I still retain a young/fun side, but on the whole I tend to gravitate to the more mature end. I require as much in a partner/friend/lover, what have you. But someone who still has that kid in them, you know? I think if anything gives my age away it would be my eyes. Lifetimes of living are visible through them. Jason used to tease me about being an old hag with multiple face lifts. well, no. Just getting fucked over a lot. But hey, thanks to mary kay, I no longer have crow's feet or dark circles. And that is something I am definitely happy about. Yay cheating the clock. Too bad I can't get rid of my big worry line on my forehead. To me, it's more of a ravine, but whatever. This thing, I've had since the 8th grade. Which, you'd think, that being that young... what on earth would I have to stress about? Well. Again, with being mature comes consequences. I feel too much. And keeping it in makes it gnaw away at your insides. eh. I honestly do hope people get what they deserve, what goes around comes around, do unto others, and all like that. If that's true, the universe owes me big.
Thanks though, for seeing a fire within me. If anyone's ignoring it, it's me. But, I'm not too sure I agree at the moment. Now it feels like the wick's just gone out, and the smoke is hanging in the air. Who's got my match?
