I was reminded of a song by the title of a post on Rubber Bound Princess blog.
“Something’s got to give.” Usually the way…
Oh and there is “nothing wrong with me.” Easily identifiable lyrics growing up as an angry lesbian where everyone tells you everything is wrong with you.
Seeing as we’re on the subject I’ll take you through a night at my local rock club, or the songs we would request anyway.
“It seems you’re having some trouble in dealing with these changes.”
“Come shove the sun aside.” I guess it hurts our eyes.
And then at the end of the night, lights go on, toast is given out, and they play Dolly Parton hoping to get everyone off the dance floor. But unfortunately we all love Dolly Parton so it doesn’t work.
I did actually fancy a boy back then. I think we kissed. Well, we did, we kissed.
Currently sort of gradually coming out as bi to any interested parties, those who ask about my love life anyway.
A few of my male friends are perhaps a little enthusiastic. No, I don’t fancy my friends. Boxes, remember, I put you in the friend box. Long ago. And I know we made a pact in Uni, that you would be the father of mine and my girlfriend’s offspring. But things change lol. And let’s face it, you were never going to be involved in the insemination.
Christ it’s like when I came out as a lesbian in school and all the blonde girls ( I don’t mean to generalise but there was a clique of blonde barbie-type girls) who mistakenly thought I now fancied each and every one of them.
No. Just no. I might be bi, I might not, but I’m still extremely fussy.
Now please, put your penis away. I love you. But back in the pants it goes. Thanks.
On the plus side, it does wonders for the confidence. Which I suppose is what I need. Kind of.
After being rejected by the one person I did actually quite like. So I’m going to be a slut for a little while.
A word used twice in Writing the body’s poem ‘Sphinx.’
It doesn’t take away the pain, but it does something. Not quite empowerment. But something similar…
I’m not sure I will find out exactly what till afterwards. Assuming, that is, I don’t get addicted… to the pleasant feelings. I suppose it is kind of a replacement of pleasant feelings that I got from my interaction with…
Oh dear, it started as a post about music.
There is no plan to any of my posts in case you couldn’t tell. What comes out, comes out.
I use the word ‘slut’ in a sex-positive way of course. If that’s possible.