nauseated Music: The Loving Kind - Girls Aloud Reading: Haciendo carasI skipped class tonight. This weather is killing me. All I wanna do is curl up and sleep and never wake up. I’ve been trying to take naps in an effort to even out my sleepiness, but iFail.
The following creative piece was inspired by a v. excellent dream I had the other night. I’m on call at work tomorrow morning. I’m gonna call work as soon as I get up because of class tomorrow night. The earlier I go to work, the easier it’ll be to get to class on time.
I haven’t shot anything new for “Seven Sisters.” I have to finish “Angela’s Ashes” for Business Communication. I’m not even sure what direction I wanna take with the final essay in Comp Lit. I’ve got a handle on US Foreign Relations, so I’m good there. I’ve got so many deadlines in anticipation of the end of term. I can’t seem to get motivated to do any of it. Ugh.
Plus I’ve got my niece’s baptism to worry about next month. Not so much that I have to contend with having to work it around work or school, as the semester will be over and my department will be closed. But the fact that I really don’t wanna pay for airfare and then a rental car to come back home with my ma came up. As soon as she said “rent a car,” I was like, “Maybe I should drive my own car.” I feel more comfortable in it. Plus I don’t have to worry about not bringing sharp objects and lotion, and worrying about people picking me up at the airport.
I think my parents might let me drive to Cali… by myself. It’s 8 hours, so it’s not like I can’t do it. I’ve never been on the road that long solo. I’m excited by the prospect. Plus it’s California. It’s not like I don’t know where I’m going. We used to drive from Cali to Vegas and back all the time. Sure, I slept for most of the rides, but that was during the boring parts, haha. Plus I’ll have my mom with me on the ride back.
Anyways, here’s the dramatic interpretation of my dream.
“I Won’t Let You Down” by moi
“What are you doing here?” she asked.
“I just wanted to see you again,” he said, staring at her.
Her heart began thudding in her chest. “Don’t expect me to greet you with open arms.”
“We’re still friends right?”
The intensity in his eyes never faltered, and it was unnerving. The entire span of their combined history invaded her thoughts. Sweaty limbs, intellectual conversations, the screaming matches, the fact that his mere existence was an incredible turn-on for her… blood rushed to all the right places.
“Is that what they call that now?” she said mockingly.
“I want you.”
His simple statement increased the heat radiating from his skin. It was intoxicating her.
“I know.”
“Please.”
She hesitated briefly. The early morning sun was blinding her. His visit was not a random occurence. She knew full well it was a calculated move to get into her pants again. She had to hold her ground, and make a point. But the reappearance of this beast was confusing her. Her six senses were spiking off the charts.
He sensed the weakness, and went in for the kill. He could feel the unsteady breathing, the same he looked forward to when he held her down. He hadn’t seen her in two weeks; the distance they had agreed to put between them had been pointless.
She instinctively licked her dry lips in anticipation of his impure kiss. But she found herself saying, “Far greater men have tried to break my defenses.” The words caught in her throat anyways.
“But I’m the one who conquered you all those times before,” his own voice was thick with lust.
‘Stop thinking,’ the fire in her loins screamed. He met her halfway and proceeded to devour the blood screaming under her skin.
She dizzily held onto him, allowed him to guide her backwards into the house, but they didn’t get very far. She wanted him, every last inch of him, sinking into her over and over again, until she was satisfied.
He loved her. Their time apart was a failed test in celibacy. Her youth, her opinions, her independence came together in a lethal cocktail of sex he could never get enough of. He was old enough to be her father, but as soon as their lips touched, he allowed himself to be drenched in the indelible mark of her spirit.
“Marry me?” he asked moments after, their bodies tangled in the foyer of her home.
“Ask me properly. I want everything: candlelight, an opportunity where I can’t say no, the works. And surprise me too, asshole. Don’t ask me in some post-coital moment of confusion as though it were an afterthought.”
He chuckled, kissed her on the forehead, squeezing her tighter to him. “Yes ma’am. I won’t let you down.”
Of course, I took artistic license with this dream/story. I only remember the part when he came to her house and was begging her for a piece. She really was gonna stand her ground and tell him to fuck off, but I was also feeling a bit… amorous when I decide to write it down, lawlz.
?: “Have any big projects due?“
The less that can be said about me, the better.
Feel better soon!
Haha! That story was funny! I could see that totally happening!