Here's To You, Miss

As lonely as I am and however seemingly content with it I may look, I do yearn to be with another. It's not something I'll declare on stage - just like with all troubles - but this is my blog so I'll go ahead and stand now for the sake of record. Plus, it really, really sucks to have felt what I felt last Friday morning. So remember this, butt-nut. Why remember it? My misery is all I've got so I tote it around like how I used to carry a box of Animal Crackers by its string handle. This one is an elephant.


You're dreaming. You're on a bed. There's a girl with you. She's fond of you. She makes her move and you are enveloped in her embrace. Her kisses.

Then you wake up.


Those 10 seconds hurt. I woke up broken. I knew that girl in the dream who loved me so. She crushed on me back in middle school. For all my troubles with women and all the years of quiet rejection by many a female smile, she stood out as the one who was kindest and most sincere. It took courage for her to let me know how she felt, which ironically became what I sought and have never received from girls before and after her.

I am weary of the flirtation game. It's an utterly perplexing Mexican Hat Dance, a drawn-out and fatiguing ritual where the obvious is ignored (just pick up the god damn hat!) and people continue to flutter their eyes and throw half-meant compliments. In my crazy and wacky world of admiration, if I like a girl, then I'll tell a girl directly how I feel. I guess that isn't enough. I have to twirl around, stick my cock out and say a few "hey baby, babies."

To that girl in the dream, I thank you. I felt like shit that morning but I'll forever remember you as the girl with the sincerity and honesty I now long for and judge every pretty face by. Here's to you, Miss K!