DaremythSyd

• Imparte

sâmbătă, 7 noiembrie 2009 la 07:45

Dear Journal,

After beating one of my servants to death i realized that i needed to stretch my legs a bit. I had Johnn bring my best outfit out and i took a stroll down one of our glamorous city's best boulevards.

And it was there that i saw her... the loveliest of lovely's lovable sweet roses. I immediately decide to write a letter to her, but as you know, it's hard to decide weather the letter is perfect enough to be see by her gorgeous eyes. So... here is the first letter:

It would be a tiresome enterprise to tell you that autumn and its cold and tired weather mix in my guts with an unkind emotional emphasis on that which was and on that which yet may be.

The velvet veil over my mind, which implodes with each one of the sky's tear drops, manages to enhance my desire for that which is to come, for I know deep inside that that which is to come is no 'maybe'.

This kind of melancholy determines me to leave myself engulfed in a certain state of disarray, of chaotic desires and ravenous passions both passed and hoped for the future.

And it is with this disorder in my heart that draws the curtains of reality and makes my memories fragments of dreams and my hopes an ocean of mystical lights of bewitching splendor, that i come to you in search for a tender, warm and soft yet firm touch, blessed with the most intriguing sentiments known to man... Love.

I dare not define what this word means, for its significance took many forms and aspects, inflicting the most horrid of pains, and sweetest of pleasures, yet i cannot help myself from seeing a certain constant which in all of love cases persists... and that is a most wonderful and passionate infatuation topped perhaps only by a cannibalistic sexual desire.

YES, sweetest of ladies, I proclaim to you in my humble words the magnitude of my feeling towards thee. I beg of you, tender rosebud, I am but a fool when it comes to such higher emotions, which now i realize, are meant for those of superior spirit. I dwell within a state a weakness and incapacity as long as we are separated, and my prick is lonely and scared too.

I live only to be at you whim (with my prick) and i can only implore you to accept (my prick most of all) my everlasting love as a companion.
Attempt 1.

So, dear journal, what say you... do you think she will become the glorious necklace of my prick?