outta focus

So there we were, in the dimly-light studio, surrounded by pairs of stilettoes and psychedelic pieces of filter paper. Ballads over the radio. Mood lighting.

Balancing precariously on a chair, I was, for a change, tall enough to lean over his shoulder.

Squinting and peering into the tiny screen on the digital camera, I lost my balance, tipped over quite gracefully and fell against him.

No electricity, no sparks, nothing.

It's as though I never once had a raging crush on him. Somehow, that makes me sad, even though unrequited crushes make me even sadder.

food diary
apricot bread
Milo
two fried chicken wings
two Reese's Peanut Butter Cup
two bruschetta
two slices of Spizza pizza
English Breakfast tea [at dinner time, so what?]