If you look, a lot of things that aren't one-hundred percent—I guess I mean, like, phobias and mental illnesses and things—are defined by whether or not they disrupt your life. That's why it's okay. It doesn't disrupt your life. So as long as I can still get up, go to school, feed and wash myself—survive without people asking me too many questions, I guess—that makes what we do okay.
Love,. that disrupts your life. That's the wrong one. Hell, ruins lives. So while other people walk around, insane, they judge us for making perfect sense.
I think because it's so easy.
No more traveling than down the hall.
So when he leans to lick the cocaine from my nose, it's because he wants it, not because he wants me. When he puts his legs up and tilts his chin back, that's when I know he wants me. There are no games. No pressure. No emotion. Bodies being passageways to pleasure, not minds.
Fuck when you fuck, work when you work.
I wish my mind were more organized.
"No" is never heartbreak, "yes" is never more than permission.
Love is not the meaning of life.
I like it this way.
I don't need my life to be disrupted.
AN: Swing and a miss!