That sweet voice has got me again. The one that grabs my eyelids and prys them open to sunshine. It's blinding and brilliant, but it isn't painful. It's beautiful and warm and it makes me smile. She's a real angel, happiness. She told me I have to be this way as she held my head and stroked my hair. I have to stop fucking around and I needed to focus on the bright blinding light. I need to smile. I need to be happy. I need to flash out the darkness. This girl...she's one of those gals you crave. Her light is the kind that makes me rock babies to sleep, plant gardens and make 6 bags of tuna sandwiches for homeless people. She brings the kind of feeling you want to be around forever, the kind you want to marry and grow old with.
I guess she is blonde, I mean why wouldn't she be? that's how the goodness goddess is portrayed in my mind. She's an angelic playboy bunny on the side of my right shoulder, except with brains and she's feminist and can kick some major ass. She's practically Barbie-perfect in every way. She's a real doll, Happiness. It's too bad she is fickle and is bound to break my heart. She leaves too often and has a hard time when night falls. I'm tempted to flick her off my shoulder right now, except she smells too good and makes me feel so amazing. She's a hell of a drug.
There was some sort of dark spot over my eyes, previously. I guess the devil was on my left if the angel was on my right, right? He was playing some sort of fucked up version of peekaboo or surprise, because this darkness was the kind that makes you lie in bed and have sex with jerks you don't like and do too much cocaine on work nights. SURPRISE! You just got fired! It was the kind of darkness that makes you hate yourself so much that you can't help but laugh. The kind that makes you so fucked up that you are fucked down. I don't know if you can have an angel without a devil. So I suppose it was he who brought the darkness. He's kind of a fun ride. I like not giving a fuck when I am with him. I like driving real fucking fast in his car, almost driving over cliffs and exploding mid-air. He's a asshole. He's one of those guys who treats women bad because it makes them want him more. He is bound to break my heart. I flicked him off my shoulder temporarily, Blondie kinda told me to do this. But he smells soo good and makes me feel so wonderfully insane. He's like James Dean. He killed himself driving too fast. He's a hell of a drug. He puts an all-consuming sadness in my gut nightly. So I'm sure he'll be back.
But that's a different blog. I'm sick of listening to sad music. I want some love songs. I guess this is my love song. A focus on the Angelic Shoulder. A blog of what makes me happy, fuck the sad. If that's possible. I'm trying to find her light on the horizon. Hey you! Look on the bright side, for god's sake.
