Flutter-Bys

The word of the day is edge. The one built by the bad-ass son of a b**** who put you on edge last night with every message he text your way. The kind that leaves you confused as hell but with a hint of pleasure as the danger is smoothly appealing. Enough said.

My week thus far has been one of frustration, anger, and thrill of the chase. Also, the quality of my breathing has been rather sh**ty for reasons that are above and beyond my knowledge, so I sort of diagnosed myself with pneumonia and something three million times worse than that, that I won’t dare type, because if I did, there’s a huge chance I might also be diagnosed a plain and simple psychopath.

Yes I’m always happy, and no I would not trade lives with you. I’ve managed to fall for a level two-point-five clinger (See ‘Stages of Clinginess’), and if that’s not enough to make me nervous as hell, then I really don’t know what is, except this powerful connection that fills my tummy with flutter-bys.

Work has epicly failed me too. The start of my shift today was graced with the presence of a bald creep walking towards me whilst peeling a fricken’ banana. A creepy smile taking charge of his face, he whispered “Good morning,” and replaced the butterflies of my tummy with a massive cringe. 

Last but not least, the edge I was resting on became so impatiencing that I actually watched Jersey Shore tonight. It was the episode where they went clubbing.