Tim Gunn it

I felt like this was a good time to write. No particular reason, I just feel..warm. Joy.
I am very, very stoned. Plus pain killers. What a shithead. I'm slipping into my seat, I feel my feet and fingers twitching. Scratch the itch, rub the ache. My head in my hands.
My mind is walking around while I sit here and melt. I'm watching it. My future, so close. I can feel it. Numbing my fingertips. The tingle in my legs. It's you. It's me.
I miss the scent of your skin, the way it feels against mine. The push n' pull. We're like puzzle pieces. You fit right into me.
I ache. I ache all the time.

I can't control my head right now. Rolling it around. When I close my eyes, I melt into myself. It feels too good to close my eyes. I think I want to sleep soon.
I like the way this feels. This mood. This sensation. This refreshing taste of the calm tone of the night. This tingling in my cheeks. Content. Optimistic.
And then when this high fades away, and I wake up in the morning...the tingling in my cheeks will be replaced by the ache below my eyes, the heaviness that burns my eyelids. The sensation in my fingers will be pushed out by the laziness of my bones, these idle hands. The calm will be washed away by the anxiety that burdens my shoulders, and fucks with my breathing pattern. The mood will be drowned out by the whining of my voice. All optimism pushed aside by my negativity and cold front.
And that's fine. I know. I understand. I've got silly demons.
Always been a lone wolf.

But on a lighter note. Doode. Project Runway is fucking nuts. The music in between scenes is throbbing into my ears. The TV is sucking me in. Hahaha.  I can't handle it.

Turned off the tv.  All I hear is the fan, cooling me down.  And the humming of the small, white laptop on my legs.  That I paid for, by myself.  Along with my $490 camera.  I love not* being spoiled.  And working hard myself.
I've befriended a delicious salami sandwich and some left over golden spoon in my freezer. I feel satisfied.

Work today, work in the morning.  Money, money.

My screen was just 3D looking...ah. Save me, save me.
I'm in and out. Here, then there. Wish I had dear friends to sit with me right now and talk about random things.
I want your presence. I feel the need to say so many things right now.
I can't explain.
"The rain on my car is a baptism, the new me...Ice Man, Power Lloyd. My assault on the world begins now."

On the phone with you while you shroom. Dirty, lovely conversation.
Your breathing is making me giggle.
Miles and miles.
Bodies. Wrapped up. in Comfort.

Running over the same old ground, what have we found...the same old fears.
Wish you were here.