7/07/2005
 
We meet at a bar.

We small talk.

I tell him a thing about me, quite personal, which I guess I think might give him a window into my… my what? My heart? My soul? My mind?

‘What am I supposed to do with that?’ he says afterwards, ‘everyone has pain in their life.’

All thought of reconciliation disappears. He is the ugliest person in the world to me. He looks like a reptile, his eyes swollen in anger because he doesn’t know what to do.

‘Nothing, I reply, ‘you don’t have to do anything.’

But I know what I want. I say goodbye and leave.
 

Yeah, yeah, email me

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sites what I write on:
londonist

sites what I wrote on:
über: I haven't been completely honest
somewhat.org: on the up

blogs:

christopher
elizabeth

boys:

tlc
homorobotic
sex, lies & videotape
diamond geezer
vivid blurry
raw youth
secret simon
learn swedish
the rob log
why god why
a beautiful revolution

girls:

dooce
afrochic
belle de jour
pound
jems web
lindsayism

pulse:

timmy ray
link bunnies
link machine go

fantastic blogs:

a light fantastic
a chair fantastic
a rug fantastic
a kitchen fantastic
a bed fantastic
a clock fantastic

tools:

life hacker
i hate work
hi-gloss film production



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