lately a lot of people have beeen questioning me about my tattooes. well one in particular, one which most people wouldn't really understand as to why i got it and what it symbolize to me today.
my love story is definitely a tear jerker but as all love story goes it has to end somewhere. have i moved on? i don't quite know. am i okay with everything? i don't qiute know either. will i survive? i honestly don't know...
which raises the question, what do i know?
in short, i know i like this special someone and i'm finding it barely tolerable that i still haven't had the oppurtunity (or guts, call it what you want) to walk up to her and and just plant one on her cheeks. then ofcourse i'd be answering the eternal question of all men;
'Do i still got it, after all these years?'
yeah yeah yeah, i can hear that one odd voice out there, going;
'what if she really doesn't want what you want?'
we count our losses and move on (kapoow). who knew i'd be saying this. and i have another question for myself, in all my persuits i've been unmerciful and unforgiving, worst still, unremorseful. so why, (oh for FUCKS SAKES) why have i been taking this persuit so carefully and sssooo slowly. where's that predetorial instinct that i've been recognized with? has the almighty lion turn into a helpless pussycat?
i tawd i twaw i pwuttycat? i did, i did twaw i pwuttycat....
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