xoxo, nico

so much for hoping he was the next one and only. so much for his potential and the mixed messages in the voice mailed to me or the text he sent while he painted the town red. i thought he was different for a second and for the first time in my life i was going to try to take it slow instead of letting him rip off all my clothes as soon as i stepped foot over the threshold. they win when most of the time i loose but the truth is i’m really not that into the competition. what i don’t get is why he tried to come in between me and duchess. he sent me a mixed message first but she happened to be the one out so i guess it was more convenient for him to get to her side of town. a little bird told me he was all over her and she couldn’t help but notice he was socially ackward. what the fuck i just don’t get why they all only go for what they believe is easy. guess what: i have never had to work for what i got.

well look at you in your high heel shoes and shinny leather bag dressed up to the nines in labels with diamonds that sparkle in the sunshine. how much does it cost for all your high maintenance and for that smile you hide behind the red you carefully paint on your two tips. maybe you should slip into something more comfortable darling. please let me help you with that back zip and watch as the material falls off your hips to the persian rug you’re standing on in those stilettos. you’re worshiped, i am not included in your social class and i can’t help but wish i was you just for a few minutes. maybe a magic wand could manipulate me until the clock strikes twelve and i would get to keep a of pair jimmy choos for a souvenir. i must have been just shy of my shooting star. because i was that second too late my fate changed, so, here i stare in my mirror dressed in layers of clearance and missing my toe shoe.

an apple a day is keeping ian axel away. all the way to hawaii. he played the soho store earlier at four and it was the first time i have ever seen him play while i was sober.

i met a boy last night at the falafal bar. i told him he had pretty eyes and then i ended up on his lap at rockwood less than an hour later sharing a cabernet. we got at cab back to williamsburg and he passed out snoring in my bed but i wasn’t tired so i looked through his wallet instead of laying there next to him. in the bill fold there was my business card, no cash and the rest of the contents included a mastercard, a visa, an american express blue and a platinum business.

thank you for coming. thanks for my wish. its my party, i will fucking cry if i want to and i curse the day you were born. dick.

i hate mail. i hate envelopes and i hate it when my door buzzes when i’m not expecting someone even if it is only the delivery man. i usually throw away any letter that doesn’t look like a hallmark card with my grandmother’s cursive because i’m terrified of what’s sealed inside. my daddy cut up all my credit cards and deals with the accounts receivable representatives who call my home number asking for me by my mispronounced name in an attempt to collect my dept. it’s like they never get it. if i answer i usually tell them sorry she’s not here because she’s dead.

is it a bad thing that all i want to do when i see you is unbutton your dress shirt one by one until i get down to where its tucked in then slowly unbuckle your belt and slide it through each loop until it slips free while your hands are tied behind your back. i could restrict you with my body and the only thing i’d let you move is your stomach muscles when you breath and you’d have no choice but to let my lips dance on top of your skin. i could blind fold you and then you wouldn’t be able to see the real me but i guarantee you would feel my finger tips trace all over your body. crushes can be dangerous. its them to blame for turning me into this mess.

its hard to accept the fact all things good and bad must come to an end. duchess replaced the duke with an english bulldog named stuart and became closer to a dream girl. maybe one day we will all come around and things will turn out the same as they were when they were normal. what the fuck am i talking about, like seriously i mean what the fuck, i must be completely in denial. please explain in god’s name who you calling normal anyway? in my opinion its all a bunch of fucking bullshit but what i believe doesn’t count for much of anything. p s don’t tell anyone i said that. i’m not the only one who’s done something wrong, we all live in this world where people get off on scandal and i know stories that would make your toes curl. the thing that sucks the most is that i would much rather be able to quit smoking than quit you but i don’t have a choice when it comes down to loyalty. unfortunately i’ve built up a tolerance. then everything begins to stress me out and a cigarette helps me look forward to some sort of relief even if its only lasts for five fucking minutes.