Amusingly, I ponder silently, and satirically questioned in my mind, are their spellings OK. I had some body language here which was good but also some anxious male mouthing comments did erupt from anxiety as narrow assessments of the space and time. I knew one of these ice breakers mentioned, dumbly was that after the tea and the big jelly cream cheese bagel, I would increase grotesquely in size from the surrounding pressures and be the model stereotype of a loss Adonis.
(To be continued)
Today is October 8, 2009; I wish to finish this story of meeting a dream girl. I first would like to write, I saw her today again sitting in the café. This time, I happened to weird out and sit behind her while she studied and worked. I wanted to talk to her but I was a little perturbed for some reason or the other. I observed “truth is what works” and her personality certainly attracted notice of that fact. She is the dream. She is connected; wishes for things she likes; she has symbolic gestures of spirit; and she is sexually defined as to drive a man crazy.
In conclusion, I believe that even a small psychological property of a beautiful short romantic interlude lays the production reasons why we live. She sparked, I courted and lo and behold we allowed each other to score simultaneously a bond of emotional fulfilling moments. Of course, hitting on girls takes a sort of developed air and I guess her style and grace likewise had a proportion of me as somebody special. Differences, I realized seem to emerge from procuring a medium of critical styles that develop at least on this occasion into familiar grounds for proper meaning and understanding. The ability I had was leverage between the boundaries of knowing and comfortably controlling the border spaces encountered when we move with each other toward a new excitement.
JJF
[...] October 31, 2009 · Leave a Comment I did not notice if there was a drink or not; although, I imagine there must have been one, but what I saw was this big chocolate chip cookie lying on the corner of the table. She was seated and deeply involved reading with various serious facial expressions that suggested a discovery, perhaps, that compared to the flourish interests in the climax of a thriller or mystery story. This somehow oddly drew my noticing her. She read with head slightly bowed forward, and her hand wrote suggestion notes on papers under scrutiny. Her soft white statue frame silhouetted displayed a particular attractiveness and caused a small yet forceful intuition upon me to sit down beside her at the next table. You got it, in the garden café, where I often lazily frequented a cup of earl gray tea; I found the old black magic wind got the best of me. I pleased myself and immediately fell into shrewd observation of this splendid female. She instinctually ruffled her plume displaying to the entirety of the house the honored teacher’s rite of grading student papers. I sat there in awkward beach elf poise with the kindly face of the old tree spirit who knew positively how to watch a royal princess pass in the medieval fairy tale kingdom style. I interpreted a minimized puritanical hypocrisy; differances of being I believed and with the curiousness of a subtle on looker saw a professional write unconfused inspirations to the citizens of her heaven. How delightful these evaluations must be, milled from that big black pen in her hand. Then, as if she could have read my thoughts, as if one of those papers in review sent a quiet message sensation toward me, but before this fortune teller spell reach me she recoiled its power as the long satin fingers of her hand snap a piece of that big chocolate chip cookie. (READ) [...]