Thursday, April 30, 2009

from a story by the greatest writer I know

She still won’t shut the fuck up, only I don’t want her to anymore. If she stops talking I’m all alone. If she stops talking I have to start listening to myself and I hate everything I have to say. And maybe I’m in love with her. Only I hate the way she says her name or the fact that she’s wearing sandals in the middle of winter. Maybe I’m in love with her even though I kind of hate her. Maybe I just love her for tonight. And maybe I just hate her for eternity.

(-Dieter)

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