i mean really and what the fuck was i on anyway? little kitties and knees and looking over and seeing heads all waiting and watching, ready to fall. this is all we fucking do. smoke and drink and get twisted to get twisted and not much else. why? you answer me that. why then is watermelon jolly rancher so fucking good? so fucking tasteee and delicious? and you answer me that. the kid wants to be near you all the time, can’t do shit without you and you dont know why. i smell good. i smell like the beach and my youth in locker rooms at the pool, scared to death to not look. that lotion smell, warm and hot and brown skin. all clorine smelling and sweet. all warm and brown. warm and brown and tan and olive, and almost black. that smell like comfortable home and soft and fuzzy evenings getting “alaxed” all up my arms and hands. so good to be touched and held, softly, warmly, correctly. nothing odd or wrong or sickly about it. the opposite. so very calm and relaxing. im a spoiled child, growing up in a cold and inhospitable world that never touches anyone warmly or softly or ever in a way that leaves you/them feeling “right”.