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I'm not a graceful person. I'm not a Sunday morning or a Friday sunset. I am a Tuesday 2AM, I am gunshots muffled by a few city blocks, I am a broken window during February. My bones crack on a nightly basis. I fall from elegance with a dull thud, and I apologize for my awkward sadness. I sometimes believe that I don't belong around people, that I belong to all the leap days that didn't happen. The way light and darkness mix under my skin has become a storm. You don't see the lightning, but you hear the echoes.

Saturday, August 20, 2016

jusz dirty.

Dirty Pretty ThingsDirty Pretty Things by Michael Faudet
My rating: 2 of 5 stars

It achieved the "Dirty" part of it. At least with words. But Faudet was not able to take me there, you know *wink wink. I was expecting that kind of effect on me. Considering, am the kind of woman, open to this kind of dirty. Or may be, I really lost it all. Rigor mortis frigid! LOL

I had a few favorites tho. But there were really a lot of just plain "dirty" ones. I was kinda looking for something more. And I didn't find it here. Just like Lang Leav's, her boyfriend's a bit over the top kind of overrated. At least, they're havin' really groovy sex, at their house, by the sea. Made me hate 'em even more. Arrrghhhhh

I think it's time to move on to Anain Nin ;)


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