I like to travel, read, write, dance and pretend. At the moment I am suffering an insufferable phase of self-aggrandizement, premature maturity and lack of wit.
If you think you can help me out of this funk, write me at idaman.z@gmail.com
And so I jumped off the ledge, 12 feet or so above the surface of the sea and it felt like forever before my toes touched the blood-freezing water and as my body accelerated through the icy winds panic kicked in two seconds before impact into the minus two degrees waves and I thought, bloody fucking hell, I thought I had brains. And my lungs screamed murder as it took twice of forever to claw my way to the surface for air.
Oh holiest of motherfucks, was the water cold. Brainy woman that I am, I jumped another three times after.
Ah.
I met this boy who grew up on a farm and he gave me a ride on his snowmobile. He opened doors for me, and checked to see if I had hypothermia. When I showed up at the pool in a bikini fit for the beaches of Barcelona, all the other boys looked, but not him. He's a nice guy. He kept his grey eyes on my brown ones when he talked to me. He was so nice we ended up locking lips in the sauna, slick with sweat and gasping for the heavy air laden with moisture.
I made sure he didn't finish last.
He promised to take me deer hunting when the season begins. He is thirty but looks twenty one. One night out of the five we spent together he called me in the dark by the name my father uses when he's mad at me and I thought, shit that's not right. That is what I get for using different names with different people.
He made me remember what a mercurial heart mine is. I would be inhumanly cruel if I convinced another person that it is ready to commit. Holy shit I am so fucking fickle I don't trust myself!
