Sacha. Hayley.
Fifteen. Jonas is the sex.
Brendon Urie turns me on.
I can be such a poet at times.
DESIRES
A fucking Gibson SG Standard.
An exact replica of Nicholas Jerry Jonas. [I accept the actual person too.]
A voice like Demi Lovato's.
My ten cent coin I dropped in the drain.
All was golden when the day met the night. Today, as I was all alone, I pleaded for entertainment that no one wanted to provide me. So, I went to my computer for the lack of enjoyment and somehow landed myself watching random videos of Panic At The Disco and their circus days. Oh, how I miss their wonderful well rehearsed concerts. When they had creepy clown dancers roaming around them and Brendon would respond to them by dancing his wonderful lap dance. Now, their concerts are just simply, normal. They don't have out of the ordinary stage set ups and wonderful tailored clothes anymore. It's not fun anymore. I always wanted to go for one of their A Fever You Can't Sweat Out Tour concerts, but no. They only decide to come to Singapore when their new album newly releases.
This speech amuses me. Brendon's plain sexy.
The way he wings her with his lovely latin songs before he embraces for that perfect passionate kiss. Oh, but this is not that dream. This is hot, sweaty, angry, crazy, monsterous fucking.
Is it still me that makes you sweat? Am I who you think about in bed? When the lights are dim and your hands are shaking as you're sliding off your dress? Then think of what you did And how I hope to God he was worth it. When the lights are dim and your heart is racing as your fingers touch his skin. I've got more wit, a better kiss, a hotter touch, a better fuck Than any boy you'll ever meet, sweetie you had me Girl I was it, look past the sweat, a better love deserving of Exchanging body heat in the passenger seat? No, no, no, you know it will always just be me
Let's get these teen hearts beating. Faster, faster So testosterone boys and harlequin girls, Will you dance to this beat, and hold a lover close? So testosterone boys and harlequin girls, Will you dance to this beat, and hold a lover close?
So I guess we're back to us, oh cameraman, swing the focus In case I lost my train of thought, where was it that we last left off? Let's pick up, pick up Oh now I do recall, we were just getting to the part Where the shock sets in, and the stomach acid finds a new way to make you get sick. I hope you didn't expect that you'd get all of the attention. Now let's not get selfish Did you really think I’d let you kill this chorus?
I just finished an interesting phone call with Miss Dianah. I miss our wonderful out of the blue calls when we were Secondary One. It was totally random for her to call me but then again, I think I needed it. Either for catching up with my friend or actually getting away from the computer. I believe it's both. The tips of my left hand fingers can't feel no shit. They're plain numb and lost all of sense of touch. I think I deserve a new guitar, considering that everyone in this household got a new handphone but me. It's the least you could do dadddddddy. Please?
I can hear the fucking damn hot and sexy Gibson SG Standard fucking screaming my name.