speaking of charismatic roles. I am always walking a fine line, a danger line when flirtation occurs. Can't yet seem to put a lock on my mouth. The brakes don't work. I spin vowels around my tongue and greet unsuspecting men, welcome them into my lair.

'Oh she's so amazing, a free spirit. I bet she wants to suck my dick.'
And I tell them exactly what they want to hear. Not only for their entertainment, but I guess for my own. I figure we can write a wonderful script, and act things out, and when things get awkward we can yell cut. They mistake my playfulness for something real. A potential relationship of sorts. I want to be left alone, I want space, I want my ego stroked by the pounds, and I want my heart full with compliments. I want it all. On my terms. How sick.

Speaking of sick: this whole city. The snow. The people. Panic attacks. Fear mongering. Local news channels. Your peculiar face. Happy Friday.