Current mood:	stressed
Current music:	we haven't turned around//gomez

i want all that stupid old shit, like letters and sodas...
sometimes she laments that she has not had a proper boyfriend since high school.
but mostly she laments about the state of love, in general.

cupid is stupid, venus hasn't seen us, eros just isn't thereos.

whatever happened to woo-ing? do men woo anymore? "woo" is a verb that should be reinstated, she thinks. and no, wooing does not include making out on the couch in your parent's basement.

she has a craving for love letters, is a romance junkie, needs a flowery fix. who's going to be the dealer? who will give her words that will move her to tears? when she was younger, and perhaps a bit more adolescently melodramatic, she would guide her hands up to the drops and rescue them before they fell. she'd gingerly suck them off her fingers, trying to see if emotions that powerful came with a taste. saltwater. taffy tears. she cries for all the wrong reasons these days. who is going to feel for her so passionately that penning her name would be like a prayer? since when was passion passe?

she wants a romance worthy of a black and white movie. she wants a love like an old billie holliday song. she wants kisses caught in a downpour.

but for now, she'll just have to settle for text messages, drunken one-night stands, and trying to love herself.