As usual, I found myself behind a type of at least one meter eighty.
I know, yet, every time I go to a concert. I know I do not see anything.
While I can listen to the CD, in my cushy, the toes fan, softly slouched on my couch, sipping beers.
Instead, I'm pissed off at me wring its neck, behind the types of one meter eighty. Types twice obviously younger, which I do not even calculate, when they stop hair cell in front of me ...
is a concert buddy, not fair courtesies. We can be together, but we want to enjoy myself.
Yeah, I could, but I do not do: I accompany Rose.
She does not go out alone and I'm his friend.
Again, friend.
Nothing more. She told me one day how she had been lucky to meet me, a nice guy, respectful, without ulterior motive, she was lucky.
Luck, my ass.
Me, I was like everyone else, eh, buddy approach, go ahead I'm listening, I'm not there when it goes so on, just to prepare the ground. Basically, I too, want to fuck her round belly. Only after I know not impossible to extricate myself, to remember the instructions, too long, too boring, more like. And then as she was pretty to watch, I let it flow.
Rose is sweet, I like to say. Here also, I whispered repeatedly. She told me: "Ah want Machin ago (I remember how the guy's name), I'll say hello." His cheeks were the color of his name. I felt as big as a house, I would see the concert alone, that I was standing there like an old fart, waiting in case, because it has not helped.
Rose.
Type immense Finally, let me see the scene when he stooped to kiss his girlfriend, sending me back to the mouth at the same time, and happiness, and my small size. And icing on the cake, I had beside me a young blonde who laughed at full throat, ears of a man clean-shaven.
I was surrounded by their fucking hormones.
I said: I have nothing against blondes, especially not this one, which was a lovely little face. But I do not feel hysterical laughter that cunt.
I wanted to scream in the ear-type eye ember: But let her be quiet, let the silence, fuck it! There, there now, right now, get it over with.
I wanted to plant my fist on the skull of this dark moron, take their two faces, the closer violently that their flesh mingle permanently in silence.
course I said nothing, I even smiled in kind, when our eyes met. I have not tried to calm my heart pounding in my temples, I left my bubbling testosterone. I thought about later.
Me on the couch.
me telling me paw.
Me in the dark, my gender, name of Rose.
