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[jynxgirl.livejournal.com]

POST YOUR NOVEL EXCERPT HERE!!!!

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[dogson.livejournal.com]

I have no idea how to feel about what just happened. Was he, like, testing me? Or was he trying to say that he wants to be as close to me as possible? Or was he just being spontaneous? Or did he feel like nothing else could possibly happen now? Emotions are totally confusing. I feel super distant from him already, just being away from him for a few hours. Maybe that’s because I can actually feel the energy we exchanged flowing around within me or something- but it’s really intense to have just done that and then go to other, mundane things. I guess that’s the way it works, intense / mundane in order to balance it out. I guess it just feels like the mundane is WAY more apparent in my life than the intense, and that when I Get a taste of something as intense as that, I want more! I want to live my life charged with that energy and when I look at him I know that to some extent it’s possible to keep that wild creatively awesome flow going perpetually. . . and I want that so badly. . . and I feel like a psycho for wanting it so badly because he’s just so cool about it, or just—acts that cool—or something. Fuck, I have no idea! Tantric sex! My neck is bleeding and I’m sitting here watching Deezy primp around in these crystalline faucet codpieces and neckties shaped like armadillo armor and trying on these chrome rings, and I feel two ways about everything right now. I feel that everything is ashes and I feel that everything is light. And that everything is burning from light to ashes all the time. And I feel horny and super aroused and happy and I Feel depressed and lonely and deadly and rough. And letting that paradox exist within me is challenging because the emotional tenor is so high. External shit is not effecting me at all. Getting the M5 slammed into is just “whatever”. $5,000, whatever. Smash smash, whatever. Party party, whatever. Death, whatever. You know? Where does it end? Where does it begin? What are we all supposed to be doing? Are we doing it or are we playing the total rebellious child and fucking it up for ourselves? What does Luna think of me? Am I just practice or am I serious love? Are we “going steady?” I know that every moment of his life is a spiritual practice, and that a big part of being spiritual for him is working with attachment. And letting things go. So I guess I am terrified because I know he is more powerful than me, especially at cultivating non-attachment, and feeling attached like that makes me feel weak and stupid.

Deezy is bending down testing the “crotch efficacy” of a pair of gaudy mustang trunks. He says his dancing style incorporates a lot of squatting, so he needs to test the trunks. They look like swimming trunks made out of leather, with gigantic black bowtie where the clasp should be. The pockets say RAPE ME FATHER on them, for some reason, and a picture of Ronald McDonald is on each butt cheek. I doubt the legality of that move, but I don’t really care. The trunks cost eight hundred dollars.

“I’LL TAKE THESE SLUTS AND THIS HAT!” Deezy proclaims as he marches out of the dressing room, still wearing the trunks, and grabs at $6,000 worth of diamond hat pins. He sticks them to his $250 mafia bowler haphazardly. They look like some drunken constellation. He is not wearing a shirt.
Prix rings him up, asking about his experience.
“BOOMSHIVA!” he screams.