there's nothing but trouble ahead. i can smell it like the earthen, metallic smell of flammable liquids and flint before everything incinerates. it's actually pretty pleasant, so don't assume i'm approaching this rough patch in a negative manner, the perfume of misfortune. the commercial for it would read something like danger, passion, pain, fresh, and some lingerie model would roll around on a satin laden bed like there's something inside she can't get out.
it's tears. it's implied. the site of actual emotion being displayed in a commercial is the biggest buzz-kill. and marketing is about getting people off without making them feel too bad about it.
don't say i'm bitter. my boyfriend is cheating on me and i can't even make my own bed. say i have a seratonin deficiency and prescribe some heavy-duty sedatives to dry up that well of emotion that's been sloshing around inside of me all these years.
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