… and the Irish have got alcoholism (by Paul Doyne)
If I met a Genie I would wish for one thing
Take me to a land of stars and dreams
Show me leading men with brooding looks
A girls with broken hearts and scars
Can you make this happen man of magic?
Can I be one of the greats?
Am I destined to live watching my love through static glass?
I could be great you know.
The best of the best.
Please make me a leading lady.
So here’s the deal. I like this guy. That’s nothing new or exciting. The issue is this, he’s skinnier than me. By like, a lot. Should this matter? Probably not. Does it bother me? Omifriggingosh yeah. My big fear is that he won’t find me attractive even though I think he’s adorable. Fingers crossed he’s a chubby chaser. What a depressing thing to wish for. And the thing is I am not even that huge. I could stand to do a sit up or two but I am healthy. He is super skinny, like ribs showing skinny. He’s on the skinny side and I’m on the chunky side. Shallow I know. Yet I cannot help it! Grr.
All my my money has been blown on movies, books, and t.v. shows. I live my life through brave beautiful characters I will never be. So many times I have lost myself in a world of happy endings and beautiful music and so many times I have managed to resurface. Will there ever be a day when I have my own movie moment? I am scared that someday I will not be able to resurface. I feel so lonely.
but Blake you’re so cute