Feeling a little poetic today. Haven’t felt that way in a long time. **sheepish grin**
It’s a pretty slow day at work, and I’m reading throuh Mine Boy. It’s got me thinking about the idiot Eliza. She’s not an idiot coz of her desires, it’s more har lack of it. It’s silly the way she’s all hot and cold like a broken thermostat.
Girls like that kind of thing. They’re drawn to broody type guys who like them one minute and ignore them the next. Kina Ben wa Sunset beach and Louis Alberto wa Rich also cry na Benton wa ER na the PTSD version of Mark Greene.
I don’t know what the pull is – I guess it’s the challenge of getting them to smile or sth, or the power of trying to be ‘the one who can make them happy.’ It’s like having your very own cumulus cloud, and being the only one that can spot its silver lining.
I thought men were immune to this kind of thing in a girl, but in the novel, Xuma can’t get enough of this idiot girl who brings herself into his room, giggles and flirts with him, kisses him madly, freezes up when he tries to make love to her, leaves the room screaming, then comes back five minutes later and hugs him. Total nut job.
Or maybe the victim of abuse, the book doesn’t try to explain anything except that she wishes she was white. It doesn’t even give us a why. I don’t like this book much, but it’s a setbook, so I have to read it to find out where the extract I’m editing is from.
I wrote a poem today. Haven’t done that in a long time. But then when I tried to post it, I somehow deleted it. Rusum-fusum-technobofia! I’ve tried to rewrite it, but the words won’t come. Oh well. I know what inspired it, so maybe i’ll take another hit and re-find my muse…