a.funnytimeofyear.com

B. Boy and I are off to Köln for the week. YIPPY! A HOLIDAY! Although I am actually leaving the country with £0 at the moment. Not good. See you next week!

I am such an idiot sometimes.

I guess I’m a bit lonely at the moment. A lot of my friends have gone home to their parents for summer (which I never do), or else they’ve acquired boyfriends and are devoting every waking second to worshipping the ground they walk on. I work from 6pm onwards, and B. Boy doesn’t finish work until 4pm each day. So we get roughly an hour and a half to see each other, which really isn’t enough (that’s if we even see each other at all.) I miss staying over at his but my sleep timetable is completely opposite to his which makes it difficult. On Monday we’ll be going to Köln together for a week, which I’m hoping will be magical. He’s never been on an airplane and I am even excited for him. I just have this huge fear that things will mirror how they were last year.. the cutting, that inner combustion that took me to really dark places. I so badly don’t want to be in that place but this tiny thought in my mind is that I have to re-play it in my mind to move forward, get closure, and that is really frightening.

Anyway. This was taken at roughly the same time last year. I seemed to have a sharper eye for beauty at that time, but then tragedy always has that effect on me.

Yesterday was B. Boy’s birthday, so we feasted on sunshine on the beach for hours. A real day of perfection, we wandered through a street festival and I ate icecream that dribbled down my hands. Good friends, good times. And what perfect way to finish a day than to tell him how much I am in love with him.. and then make love.

19|6|2004

Sunlight - the early morning variant - cuts in through the patio doors. Refractions slice the dirty floorboards splitting empty beer bottles and conjuring rainbows from empty wineglasses. The TV is on low, the walls are bare plaster and a three wheeled skateboard stands upright, proudly handicapped. In spite of all these irrelevant observations, the thing that you fail to see are your own tears slipping down the rough skin of your unshaven cheeks.

Your tears, your cheeks.
Not his.
Yours.

I was in a different place last summer. I really don’t want to go back to that dark place. But maybe I do in order to move forward…

(PS - my camera’s broken. no more photos for a while, it looks like!)

Pussycat Club’s “Pink Party” themed night. Ace!

goodbye, grandpa.

At the moment I’m absolutely in love with our sex life. Morning sex is perfection, a method of setting you up for the day that just seems so.. right. Basically, I’m a slave to cock. But who isn’t? (Lesbians need not respond..) The second photo got me banned from Deviantart. It hasn’t been published here previously either, but now I figure, what the hell.. Personally I like the photo. Not just because it’s me sucking B. Boy’s cock, but because I genuinely like the feel of the photo. The lighting, the shadow, the pose… Honest.