These are just a few thoughts and questions that have been floating around in my head…feel free to not take them seriously…just the absent minded ponderings of a confused and lonely little girl…
• Is it wrong that I feel left out because I’ve never been snatched up and kissed deeply in the rain?
• Is it wrong that I put on a confidant front, but am actually quite scared and insecure?
• Is it wrong that Jim Croce songs are so sad and romantic that sometimes they make me cry?
• Is it wrong that I feel down when I think about a man brushing the hair out of my eyes, lifting my face up with his fingertips under my chin, and kissing me lovingly and sensually…and how I’m jealous that its never happened to me?
• Is it wrong that when I look out at a crimson and lavender sunset, I get all teary eyed because I have no one to share it with?
• Is it wrong that the words “every time the time was right all the words just came out wrong” ring so true?
• Is it wrong that every time I get into a fairly decent relationship, I’m still unhappy at times because he’s not prince charming?
• Is it wrong that sometimes I get so frustrated and lonely that I stop believing in love, and then one day I meet someone, and I turn into a doe eyed little girl again, ready to believe in anything?
• Is it wrong that the songs “Some Body’s Baby” by Jackson Browne, “There’s Something In The Way She Moves” by James Taylor, and "This Time" by Bryan Adams make me wish there was someone around to sing about me?
• Is it wrong that I want an angel of music, to stay beside me, to hold me, to guide me?
• Is it wrong that the words “lets just be friends” break my heart, but as of late I can’t stop saying them?
Ah well…I could go on but this (like usual) is getting a little melodramatic, so I’m going to stop…
……………………see you in the funny papers……………………
~JosiE~
wel...monday june 16th eh?...hmmm...f
here's the begging (and only the begining because SOMEONE *hint* would try to steal and claim it) of a new story i'm working on...give me opinons people...
The Slave
-JosiE AngeL-
A muffled cry rang out from around her gag. Her tear stained face peering up at me, eyes full of absolute fear. I walked back towards her helplessly bound form carrying in my hands a small silver platter.
Her body wriggled, desperate to escape. “Tsk, tsk, tsk…” I clucked. “You know begging and struggling will get you nowhere my pet.”
Her restraints, though hastily drawn up, where beautiful in their simplicity. Her hands, bound by the wrists, were strung high over her back, another rope bound from her elbows to her torso wrapping of course, around her exquisite breasts. Her legs spread eagle and tightly constricted by chains to the legs of the table on which she was perched, perfectly displaying her round, dimpled ass. Her neck wound in another coarse rope that was looped through the previous pulling her head back so that she could gaze upon nothing but the exposed rusty pipes of the basement ceiling.