Rawnald Gregory Erickson the Second (Strfkr)

Hi.

So tonight’s big lament is that I finished Blacklist’s first season on Netflix – which is a little less sillier than you think, if you knew the fact that some of our latest twentysomething soundtracks were derived from the show.
It’s a great show – and it’s a fantastic soundtrack if you ask me.

On to Rawnald related topics.

This morning I woke up to wondering how long it will be until I touched someone’s face.
And kissed them.
Kissed all over their faces.
And smiled and giggled while doing so.
How long will it be until I can love someone, who’ll love me just as much?

“All my life:
There you go
‘Oh please stay
Just this once’
Anyway…”

I have passed many points and plenty of lines where I was certain that I was doomed with this non existent love life. Somehow I still manage to dream about it, and just really really want it.
My goddamn standards haven’t even lowered.
Why I am doing this to myself, or is it something that I am doing to myself is really unclear to me.

“All my life:
There you go
‘Oh please stay
For the night’
Anyway…”

I don’t know how I strike you dear readers, but I actually am a pretty decent person.
I mean well, I make jokes as a life style, I listen, I talk, I’ll try – try to succeed, to help, to understand.
How hard is it for someone to just look at me, not once but twice. And just to think “she’s not that bad”.

“All my life:
There you go
‘Oh please stay
Just this once’
Anyway…”

I’m sure you can imagine, but I’ll say it anyway: I hate the desperation. I really think I deserve more than this.
And I’m afraid, that, that day when I won’t be able to make jokes about the situation will come.
And I’ll be just really, really sad.

“‘Oh please stay, for the night'”

So universe: Here’s another wish for the same old subject. RSVP asap.

“Anyway…”

Cheers.

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