Monday, 4 April 2011

Paperbag Writer. Day Four

My second ex girlfriend came by up to the point that I felt as if I was a graveyard, as if I were many people at the same time, pimps and prostitutes. As if I was dead and all my previous lovers came to visit me, having the thought that they were my one and only.

I could be theirs, but they couldn't be mine, just the feelings were playing with some written in books desperation. Right. It was like those stupid films when some creepy guy has loads of sexy young schoolgirls crying over his grave wondering how the hell life will go on, until they find another dude to fuck. I felt that after death they’d grief a bit and find another until death do they part, all of them in a hate relation, to fight over.

She came in tears, asking me if I was alright even if she had been turning my calls because she thought that my current was a bitch. Karina asked what was Yumi doing here yesterday and I wrote her a quick explanation.

It amuses me how you should keep talking to previous boyfriends but no other ex should, if she is according to straight females, she’s a self-centered bitch.

In the end Karina sat on the corner of my bed asking questions too many of them that my sketchbook ran out of space and gave me another, saying that I draw good, when she had forgotten her glasses and it were letters to myself, when I'd die to blow the pages, and only then she quit and left me alone to rot in my thoughts to which I was deeply thankful.

Day Five

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