romantic fucker that I am

Here I am. Alive and well. I have a gigantic beating heart, it keeps me alive and it makes me want to either scream or sing. I think I have hit some kind of psychic wall in my life, because I can freely admit that I am a lover without a care to the damage that does to my hetero-coolness-streetcred value. I'd be the first to admit that shit has taken enough hits to go down in friggin flames lately. But whatever, I got the jazz you know? SOmethin about talking to a woman gets me hot and blushin and seriously all down in my pants, but at the same time I have started to notice some odd occurrences. Like not only is the pornoweb boring - but its like smoking. You just start doing it to do it, it gives back zero and in fact sucks a whole bunch of your life and soul if you let it. I would so much rather make out on the couch for hours than do just about anything else. I have started to say hello to random strangers - when completely sober, with no irony, and not even the slightest thought of flirting. Of course in SF that means you are crazy or you want something,... usually money. So no one has yet to respond. No,... wait I take that back. This one kid downtown gave me the coldest stare I have ever seen, and then when his parent wasnt watching looked back at me and gave me the vulcan peace sign (or whatever that is). I'll take it. So maybe today I dont care. Maybe I dont care enough about reality that the scales have tipped and I believe in love, and cher's singing voice. Maybe I am 2 pints of beer into my evening too. So whats the diff? If you are reading this, I hope you get some hot make out session sometime soon. There is nothin like the straight-up full on lovin liplock.