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You liked it. I know you did because I watched you smile. The eye-roll was staged, but the smile was real.
You laughed. Don't think I didn't hear you. Though you fought to keep the giggle to yourself, the muffled sound of concealed joy managed to escape your lips.
You almost managed to have a good time. You came so close... oh so close. But you couldn't.
No.
How could you allow yourself to have a good time? What if the other hipsters saw?
Misery loves frumpany, but I think I'll pass.
::::: | Wednesday, Mar 29 2006 at 12:17 PM
::::: |
Mari said:
This remind me of my days when I'd go to Goth clubs... I was known as the "Too Happy To Be Goth" girl *grin*
I used to LOVE trying to make the über-Goth boys smile (the girls would get pissed at me for ruining the mood *grin*)
::::: | March 30, 2006 7:38 AM::::: | All Content © 2004-2012
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