Now that I am thinking of it: X and Y are kinda the same, the subtle difference is that Y is missing a little part so to become a X.
I am an XX and he's a XY; Now guess who's incomplete and has a missing part :3.
I no longer know what you want and what you expect me to do.
I am curly, now you want me straight.
I am straight, then you want me curly.
I am lost.
Please, Please made up your mind, then get back to me.
Looking forward to,
Your confused tiresome curly/ straight stubborn hair.
When, October 31t, 2013 at 21.00 P.M.
Where, at the Underground’s. What, A Halloween party celebrating walking dead.
It is my first Halloween party ever.It’s crazy. It’s scary. It’s fun. It’s Halloween.
At the entrance, there were two pretty
girls, I mean zombies, turning people into zombies: white powder, strawberry juice,
lip stick, kohl…
When I entered the main place, I am all white-faced,
bloody lipped, dark-eyed, scare-full. In brief, I am a walking dead.
The main place was black, decorated with
red couches, balloons, candles, scary statues, all it was missing: pumpkins. I took notice of
a big portrait of all the legends of music, plus seperate portraits of James
Brown, John Lennon, Bob Marley, Bob Dylan, Ray Charles, Janis Japlin.....and I felt that they were walking dead around us.
As a time maniac, I went early. Later on,
people, I mean walking dead started showing up, all disguised; Jason, Jack
Sparrow, Cat Woman, the Naughty Schoolgirl, the Bitchy nurse, Pandora the evil,
the Table Man, the Joker,….
The music, rocked. There were two Djs, a pregnant with
her "Stop Co2loniazation" laptop, and a male zombie who
played crazy beats. Hours of deadly dancing, chatting and taking pictures with
the amazing disguised. It was Halloween.
Of course, there were wine and alcohol;
there were cigarettes and joints. Many offered me cigarettes that I refuted;
many asked if I want something to drink, which I refuted. They were all
surprised: I read a question in their eyes: “what a all- alone girl who doesn’t
drink, doesn’t smoke and doesn’t do drugs doing in such a party. You girl miss
the definition of fun.”
I have my own definition of fun, experience
new things with little damages to my real self. I had fun, my way: seeing
people having fun their ways.