Skip to main content

Interview to a mysterious stranger


Is she fun?
- Oh yes, she is fun! She makes me laugh!

Is she sexy?
- Oh, damn right she is sexy!

Is she available?
- Uhm, she seems to be.

What does she want?
- She wants contact.

Contact?
- Yes, meeting up, having fun, being intimate.

Does she know you?
- She wants to get to know me.

- Is she dark or is she bright?
She is bright most of the time, but she has a really dark side...

How is sex with her?
- Can we say making love?

OK, how is making love with her?
- Daring and the most enjoyable. She is truly passionate.

Tell me three adjectives about her that you haven't told me yet.
- She is cool, mature, sexy.

You already said sexy!
- Can't I say it again?! OK, OK, intriguing? Intense? Quirky?

One thing you like about her.
- She can cook!

One thing you dislike about her.
- She is too honest?!

How would you describe an evening with her?
- Unpredictable?

Do you know any of her hidden fantasy?
- Making love on the Southbank.

Would you like to be part of it?
- Oh, absolutely!

What does she hate?
- Boredom

What does she love?
- London and everything with London as a playground.

Will you see her again?
- Hopefully so!

And?
- Ask her!

Comments

rivercat said…
I like this q and a. The boredom one is hard because everyone seems to be bored with different things.
I wonder if boredom is just poor planning and not understanding each other. Wanting to be either excited by what a person says or by doing things or going places i understand. It seems everyone has a different threshold though
AnnaFullStop said…
Uhm,
I think that boredom as I mean it here is precisely the feeling of emptiness and unfulfilment, as you say the lack of excitement for things to do and things someone says. My threshold for boredom, I am afraid, is quite easy to reach :(
Drwatson52 said…
Love the new format :)
AnnaFullStop said…
Thank you very much! :)

Popular posts from this blog

Let me be your Muse

Breathing is just a rhythm. Let me help you create the music. Let me be your Muse, the one lightening you. Living is not believing. Let me help you believe in something more. Let me be the one driving your pen, kindling your inner language, pulling it all out. Let me speak your language, let me teach you my language. Do trust me, do let me enter. Do talk to me, as if I was a song to be written, Please, please, let me light your sun, the sun you are suffocating inside your dark soul. Let me be your Muse, that is all I've ever needed, all I've ever wanted. To be your Muse. Play my music, act my script, please, listen to my words, recite them, recite them all, but not as if they were cold and heartless, do take them in you, make them yours. Let them inspire you. Let my words inflame you. Let me inspire and inflame you. Don't ask me to be one among the others, Do not oblige me to remain silent and to hide who I am. Do not ask normality of me, Dare an...

Because He is the One

They say that when you meet the One you feel it, deep inside of you, something tingles. You try to suffocate  it because there is no way you can be right, after all the times you have been wrong. And certainly he is not the One. He can't be, he will try to escape, from you, from commitment, from intimacy, from proximity. They say that there is a moment, in everyone's life, when you know that you need to fight. And fight harder for a love, or something really similar to love, that is slipping away, that is not blossoming as it should. What happens, when do you know when is the right time to start fighting? Perhaps when do you feel that he is the One? Or when is it that you let it go instead and accept that it is over? They say that the more you grow up the more you learn to know what you like and what you will never like. They say that at some point you are bound to find people who seems to be the right ones and are not, just because of the circumstances. So...

Millennium Bridge

Mid Afternoon, with the Millennium Bridge embraced by such a weird sun, too powerful to be London, too bright. One never gets to appreciate how big is the bridge until one sees the people walking down it. Stories passing by. So humble. And suddenly I remember that night when I called him because some romantic musician was playing 'Let it be' on the bridge. And those lights...oh those lights on the Millennium bridge that night. In my eyes. Trapped in my heart. And I remember how he was touched by this gesture. One of my usual silly romantic gestures. I sit on some stone stairs which lead directly to the water of the Thames. Directly in the river. Dirty waters but smelling of summer, today, kissed by the sun, moved by the implacable wind. I stare at a couple sitting a bit before me. She is fat, he is bold., they kiss and they seem in love. They share the food. They probably found that compromise which allows every man and woman in love to accept the beloved one without getting ne...