I love people who make me laugh. I honestly think it’s the thing I like most, to laugh. It cures a multitude of ills. It’s probably the most important thing in a person.
Kinda wanna have sex
Kinda wanna sleep for 12 hours
Kinda wanna eat 2 large pizzas
Being born a woman is an awful tragedy. Yes, my consuming desire to mingle with road crews, sailors and soldiers, bar room regulars—to be a part of a scene, anonymous, listening, recording—all is spoiled by the fact that I am a girl, a female always in danger of assault and battery. My consuming interest in men and their lives is often misconstrued as a desire to seduce them, or as an invitation to intimacy. Yet, God, I want to talk to everybody I can as deeply as I can. I want to be able to sleep in an open field, to travel west, to walk freely at night.
We assume others show love the same way we do — and if they don’t, we worry it’s not there.
“maybe if i drink another coffee, i will feel better”
“maybe if i buy myself a new sweater, i will feel better”
“maybe if i get so drunk i can’t see, i will feel better”
“maybe if i sleep for fourteen hours, i will feel better”
and i usually do