satan’s spawn

“here comes the rain again,” they sang. “falling on my head like a new emotion.” it’s not so much a new emotion, rather a long-familiar one: the rollercoaster ride of human interraction. the tingling thrill which comes with discovering the spot on his body that makes him moan. the shivering sigh when he finds the place which works that way for you. the confusion and duality i’ve felt has been giving way to desire and curiosity, but that’s really none of your business, is it?
taking advice from another boy, i’m trying to write with purpose and intent. you’re failing. where have all my readers gone? hello! come back! fuck that. i don’t care. oh, yes you do. i may be just as cute, intelligent and talented as the ones who get the hits, but i’ve given up on the pandering. if they want me, they know where to find me. you hope.
tonight, i surrender myself to the halls of academia once again. there’s a new binder filled with pristine looseleaf, a transparent mini-stapler, neon post-it tabs and the sexxy pen in my bag awaiting the beginning of year two of my progression towards certification. i’m eager to be in a classroom again. my bright eyes latched upon the teacher as they bestow upon me their knowlege. they will watch me while they talk because i am so very attentive. i will be their anchor in a sea of perplexed faces. i will ask intelligent questions and answer with equal aplomb. indeed, i shall excel for i am driven and, above all, a grade whore.