Brett
Rants
Carnival
Like Cotton Candy for the Brain
Do you want the story?
The story with the hot chick?
The ridiculously hot chick?
She's up there, going round and round, living for the moment, tonight, right now, this moment could stretch out until the end of time, as far as she's concerned, even if, at the same time, tomorrow can't come soon enough, not for that one.
So, do you want to hear that story?
Or do you want to hear the story about the hot chick? You know, the story about that ridiculously hot chick?
The one you want to take on the slow ride, the slow walk of life, arm in arm, hand in hand, pausing to kiss at the top... the bottom, and all the places in between.
Well, that's the plot, that's the story, in this here choose your own adventure that I am going to call Life.
So, pick the girl that likes cotton candy.
Feel free to choose the girl that likes to spin around in circles for no particular reason and sip a fine wine while waiting for her turn to ride the Ferris wheel.
But most importantly, pick the girl that you want to go home with, happy, safe, a quiet night, all alone, after another one of those pleasant evenings, just like tonight. We went for a walk. It was quite the imaginative stroll in the park, as we pretended to be young and gay, spending the night at the carnival... just like in years of yore.
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And later, at home, all alone, sitting together, on the couch, pretending we're somewhere else, pretending we're someone else, probably stuck at the top of the Ferris Wheel, we are, and the power's off, a black out, and there's nothing else to do but kiss, a slow kiss, as the lights from an evening sky fade to black, and the rest of reality slowly drifts away, leaving nothing in its wake, but the aforementioned, sweet soothing kiss, you know, the type of kiss you could wrap the fragment of a story around... you know, if you were of the mind, that sort of kiss.
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