It's not how many, it's what you talk about that counts!

So I was at this party and everyone was like 'Hello! How ARE you?' and I was like "FINE!" and they were like "oh my God! I love your hair" (I've had a new cut) and I'm just standing there with all these people around me. Great looking people who have lots of hair and eyes and lipstick and stuff and I'm suddenly overwhelmed...OVER WHELMED...by this sense of dread. This sense of the world being empty and falling really fast toward oblivion and I dont' know. It's like I'm slowly flailing, but nothing. Nothing's happening. Just these grinning lipstick mouths and I'm in the middle of it all and all I want is a friend, or someone to punch me, or something. But then this tray of amazing amuse buches came past, held by this most cute waiter, like a boy almost. And I'm like "What the fuck!" and I grab a tiny mint coated rice cracker and touch his pert little ass. He looked at me with a little sparkle in his gorgoue big brown mediterranean eyes and said that he finished at 3, maybe I'd like to meet him. I left. Walked home. Looked at the stars while the drizzle came down through the solar system and realised life might be a shallow kind of hell, but as long as you didn't look down it was full of delicous surprises.
lvoe love

M xxx