i- yes, please
I want, but can't have.
I look, but can't see.
I wait for you in an empty room and my mind is boiling with thoughts of your erotic incantations. Your talent and intelligence seduced me. "Oh, you're a silly girl", the ghost whispers. I ignore the ghost, but know he is right.
I am in love with a mirage. But doesn't it feel good? Dreams have always been better than reality. I WANT HIM. Desire has never burned so bright, or more pathetic in its luminescence.
ii- no, thank you
I messed up. I made a mistake. It wasn't there, it was never there, I conjured it up in my head, till I believed it was real. They are laughing, an orchestra of laughs, caucophony of insults playing their sad melody, and I smile, smiling, spewing forced glee. My makeup runs down my face while I am crying, but with a grin so big the Cheshire cat is jealous. How could something so real, be so fake?
maybe I would.
maybe I wouldn't.
maybe mocks the meaning by teatering on a see-saw.
PICK A DAMN SIDE.
he said maybe. How could my yes, resort a resounding maybe?
maybe waits and waits.
The jeapordy song plays.
Alex Trebec is getting older.
Maybe I should find something else to do.