the contest is over.

It's because I'm not in love.

Not even BS love. There is no infatuations, crushes or far away dreams.



Right now... I am without fantasy.



I can't even get off when I masturbate. I am well passed sexually frustrated and have landed in the middle of a sort of a-sexual ignorance thing.

Suspect it right... the same old people and the same old hang-ups are all I have to analyze and romanticize.

My only issue right now is that of money. I am over $500 in the red right now and the pot is growing steadily. The new job is not working out and I will have to find another. The cash is not coming in and the power-struggle drama is a lot worse than I thought. Two days in and I'm already on the hit list.

Not exactly inspiring.

My mother is doing extraordinarily well... things with the fam could not be better. My two colorguards are about to have tryouts and the new seasons look promising.

I'm not in a bad place. I'm just in a very unmagical one.



Keep your fingers crossed that this passes quickly. And if anyone has any interest in finding me an object of fantasy... please feel free. I'll even go on blind dates... but it should be noted that I have to be one of those girls who doesn't pay because... well... the no income thing.

Yeah.

So, Suspect... I give you your reward:

It's called: "The Questions We Secretly Share..."

Why am I something to be afraid of?
Why am I someone you don't think of...

Like that?

Why is my passion so intimidating?
Why are my opinions so infuriating?

Why is my heartbeat the only one escalating?

Why doesn't anyone ever feel it as deep as I do?

And i guess, most importantly...
Why isn't it you??

And contrary to popular belief... this poem is not about my lesbian love for MariB. I just think about the two of us and all of our bittersweet boy escapades... and it makes me hope that someday all these questions will be answered by men that maybe we haven't met yet.