A Weekend Alone

Do you know that feeling of disappointment where you are so consumed by it that you can't hide how you are feeling? No matter how hard to try to keep it suppressed, it is reflected in your whole demeanor. Your face wears a sullen expression. You carry yourself with a defeated weight. There is nothing you can do but accept the feeling and press on your "merry" way. This is exactly how I was feeling when I came home from work after my yearly review. For months I had been telling people that I was going to be receiving a promotion. I would proudly say things like: "I'm going to be moving to Desktop Support." "Yeah, it should come with a nice pay jump." "You know, I'm really ready for a change. I've been working in my current position for two years, and I think it's gonna be nice to switch things up." Practically everyone in my life knew these details. Acquaintances, co-workers, friends, family, and of course my girlfriend. Need

I'm a rule-follower, and I always have been. I guess you could say it's second-nature to me, and I think it's served me pretty well. I was recognized throughout my schooling for my perfect attendance; I was always rated the top athlete in the state for anything I tried; and I've worked my way up via reputational capital to atypical prestige in my professional endeavors as an adult. So again, I think it's fair to say that my rule-following nature has served me pretty well in most ways. And I fucking hate it. It may sound weird, but doing what I'm "supposed" to do always feels so fucking stifling, and that's mostly because doing what I'm "supposed" to means suppressing what I'm not. Almost like, every time I do something to conform to what's expected of me, I'm adding another shackle on the endless chainlink containing my darker desires. And trust me -- locking up and suppressing has been my constant state for as long as I

Boxes, boxes, boxes, my world is surrounded by boxes. I have just moved into a new apartment and I am enjoying the view of all my possessions arranged neatly within large brown boxes stacked in rows amongst the furniture in every room. Moving is a process and this part is orderly, precise and geometrically pleasing. When the next phase begins, order becomes chaos and life begins, similar to the first stirrings of one-celled microbes in the primordial soup. Out of the 'kitchen' box I extract a coffee maker, a plastic container of coffee capsules and a few coffee mugs. Out of the cooler box comes a container of milk and some orange juice, three bottles of beer and a large bottle of seltzer. Life begins. After making my first cup of coffee I survey my domain and I am happy about my choice of this apartment. It is a nice 2-bedroom on the corner of a moderately tall building with plenty of light and a spacious terrace off the living room/dining area facing the sea. The master bedr

Booker-Katria Forgemaster Je'Daii Master Kyanna-Syn'Kar-Mirialan Je'Daii Protector Aoki- Kalla-To the Master Slayer-Twi'lek Gunslinger HK-47: Assassin Droid DP-69: Bodyguard Droid [Ebony Chassis] Whisper -- Darth Talon Clone [Pilot] Exomorph -- Apex Predator [Guard 'Dog'] Left -- Claims to be an ancient Hyperborean Wizard Broken Chains Brothel: On the ass end of a forgotten hyperspace lane, you will find Nova Secundus. It lay on the very edge of a supernova remnant and orbited a friendly yellow V Class main-sequence star explorers had registered as Nova 25D-4R-96 or Nova Secundus Prime. The only other celestial body in the system was a habitable planet one and a half times the diameter of Corellia. The gravity was a bit harsh for newcomers, but you hardly felt the difference after a period of adjustment. What had once been the home of a forgotten near-human species that the scientists called the Ava'nichi now was home to the best little whorehouse this sid

T and I had a fantastic afternoon where we went all out. Everything was thrown out there. We absolutely devoured each other and wrapped up with a heated fucking with her on her back and me ravaging her. Enjoy listening... (Two Voices M&F) *Audio is between two consenting adults having an incredible time* * * * * * Click Here to listen: .m4a format or .ogg format. (25:09 min) * * * * *" http://forum.meghanmckenna.com/printthread.php?tid=9863 http://forum.meghanmckenna.com/showthread.php?tid=9863&pid=25447 http://forum.minhaji.net/member.php?u=4019 http://forum.minhaji.net/member.php?u=4032 http://forum.modelarji.com/viewtopic.php?t=3822&start=50 http://forum.multiplayer.it/printthread.php?t=663183&pp=20&page=399 http://forum.mxsimulator.com/viewtopic.php?t=6821&start=15 http://forum.navi.gg/profile/?area=showposts;sa=messages;u=126728 http://forum.nessaholics.com/index.php?action=profile;u=443;area=showposts;sa=topics;start=45 http://forum.nova

Copyright Martin Gatsby 2021 (To a past lover, I did not appreciate enough) Christine tapped her heel in annoyance. The gall of her partner deciding to sell the most prized piece in their gallery was simply beyond understanding. Only two years ago, he had asked her to join him in the partnership. By making a handful of very shrewd purchases and even wiser sales, the gallery had begun to turn an impressive profit. But it was her taste, her drive, and her business acumen that drove the turn around. While her partner may have put up the initial capital, it was her talent generating both dollars and taste. For him to act without consulting her was more than simply an insult; it was a power play. Her black, shiny Louboutins tapped angrily against the cold marble floor of the gallery. She was already dressed to the nines for an opening that would not occur for six hours. Still, she was ready. Her body was poured into a red bandage dress resting just off her shoulder. The effects of tapping