| Pork |
[16 Oct 2003|10:29am] |
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mood |
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 gloomy |
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music |
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"Antistar" by Massive Attack |
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Sitting at The Goof (originally their sign read "Good Food", but the D burnt out and they never replaced it) in a tiny booth w/a fine spread of unintimidating Chinese food. I felt content for a brief moment as I regarded each platter, no bites or fork tracks in sight. All that potential. After writing that out, I'm glad there was some depth to it. I was puzzled in that moment, wondering if my life was destined to be of a pork.
The Cherub's battle w/The Leech continues. I find myself repulsed by him.. cannot say no or refuse him. He flops down for week long stays that are gratuit, cleans out his fridge, then quits the job that was the pretense of originally being able to stay. I had to have a conversation w/The Cherub in his building's laundry room as The Leech was upstairs. Mother of crap he better not come across any difficult obstacles in his being. He'll be toast.
He won't listen to any of my reason, so I'm forced to keep quiet as he bemoans his very simply-solved woes upon me. I simmer in silence. Bah. Of brains he is not. I've found those of brains are distant and complex... afraid of emotion as I am. I'm trying a different flavour this time I suppose. He has a golden heart and is as doting as a puppy.
But damn I miss someone w/smarts sometimes.
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