<?xml version='1.0' encoding='UTF-8'?><?xml-stylesheet href="http://www.blogger.com/styles/atom.css" type="text/css"?><feed xmlns='http://www.w3.org/2005/Atom' xmlns:openSearch='http://a9.com/-/spec/opensearchrss/1.0/' xmlns:georss='http://www.georss.org/georss' xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6558720620340990791</id><updated>2011-07-31T08:13:54.690+01:00</updated><title type='text'>Unexpected Positions</title><subtitle type='html'></subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://unexpected-positions.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6558720620340990791/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://unexpected-positions.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><author><name>Remi</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01666480041111911093</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>56</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6558720620340990791.post-3003417159642803740</id><published>2010-08-01T15:38:00.001+01:00</published><updated>2010-08-01T15:38:39.148+01:00</updated><title type='text'>in my dreams i do.</title><content type='html'>fingers trembling with desire, the&lt;br /&gt;need to touch you felt overwhelming.&lt;br /&gt;the pounding of my heart as i pushed&lt;br /&gt;them deep inside of me, pretending&lt;br /&gt;its you.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;wanting to feel you, to make love&lt;br /&gt;to you, "nice &amp;amp; slow". its been a long&lt;br /&gt;time since i last thought about&lt;br /&gt;you in that way.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i did last night.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6558720620340990791-3003417159642803740?l=unexpected-positions.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://unexpected-positions.blogspot.com/feeds/3003417159642803740/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6558720620340990791&amp;postID=3003417159642803740' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6558720620340990791/posts/default/3003417159642803740'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6558720620340990791/posts/default/3003417159642803740'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://unexpected-positions.blogspot.com/2010/08/in-my-dreams-i-do.html' title='in my dreams i do.'/><author><name>Remi</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01666480041111911093</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6558720620340990791.post-6187757003970153358</id><published>2010-04-08T21:03:00.002+01:00</published><updated>2010-04-08T21:16:48.742+01:00</updated><title type='text'>This somehow sums it up. Unexpectedly. Of course.</title><content type='html'>Your &lt;b&gt;taste &lt;/b&gt;is something that Godiva &lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"&gt;couldn't re-create&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"&gt;    &lt;/span&gt;Necessity is placed upon &lt;b&gt;me &lt;/b&gt;knowing &lt;b&gt;you &lt;/b&gt;are the source of my serendipity&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;Make-up melting&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"&gt;            &lt;/span&gt;Tu eres mi pecado &lt;b&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"&gt;mortal&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;Covered in body prints and finger &lt;b&gt;prints &lt;/b&gt;and you above me&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt; Your &lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"&gt;name &lt;/span&gt;written &lt;b&gt;indelibly upon &lt;/b&gt;my body in your genetic history&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"&gt;       &lt;/span&gt;As you &lt;b&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"&gt;lick &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;torturing me&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"&gt;             &lt;/span&gt;I get a temporary case of &lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"&gt;tourettes&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;in a four octave-range &lt;b&gt;screaming &lt;/b&gt;your name&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;"&gt;You fucking me makes me bilingual.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;(parts of Bilingual by Jose Nunez)&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6558720620340990791-6187757003970153358?l=unexpected-positions.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://unexpected-positions.blogspot.com/feeds/6187757003970153358/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6558720620340990791&amp;postID=6187757003970153358' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6558720620340990791/posts/default/6187757003970153358'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6558720620340990791/posts/default/6187757003970153358'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://unexpected-positions.blogspot.com/2010/04/this-somehow-sums-it-up-unexpectedly-of.html' title='This somehow sums it up. Unexpectedly. Of course.'/><author><name>Remi</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01666480041111911093</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6558720620340990791.post-2558464288467178115</id><published>2010-03-08T20:24:00.001Z</published><updated>2010-03-08T20:26:30.962Z</updated><title type='text'>"please.. let me read you." was my only thought.</title><content type='html'>you rest your head on my belly, i watch the&lt;br /&gt;sun rays lick your body, pausing at your thighs&lt;br /&gt;with your childish manner you take my &lt;br /&gt;hand and put it on your left breast&lt;br /&gt;the familiar feeling of your soft skin makes&lt;br /&gt;hair on the back of my neck stand&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"boobees!" you exhale with laughter.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;for me speaking at that moment was long&lt;br /&gt;forgotten, all i could concentrate on was my&lt;br /&gt;breathing, trying to control it and failing&lt;br /&gt;miserably.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"i have another one," you silently whisper.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;as if i didnt know every line and hill of your&lt;br /&gt;breasts, as if touching every dark swirl of&lt;br /&gt;your nipples wasnt almost like reading&lt;br /&gt;braille. reluctantly i move my fingers and&lt;br /&gt;suddenly blood rushes to my&lt;br /&gt;face.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i am never more easily transparent than&lt;br /&gt;when you look into my eyes. im glad you&lt;br /&gt;were facing the ceiling.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6558720620340990791-2558464288467178115?l=unexpected-positions.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://unexpected-positions.blogspot.com/feeds/2558464288467178115/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6558720620340990791&amp;postID=2558464288467178115' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6558720620340990791/posts/default/2558464288467178115'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6558720620340990791/posts/default/2558464288467178115'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://unexpected-positions.blogspot.com/2010/03/please-let-me-read-you-was-my-only.html' title='&quot;please.. let me read you.&quot; was my only thought.'/><author><name>Remi</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01666480041111911093</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6558720620340990791.post-3347882020463430406</id><published>2010-02-18T23:51:00.001Z</published><updated>2010-02-18T23:51:37.928Z</updated><title type='text'>I start to wonder...</title><content type='html'>Maybe I would have been &lt;br /&gt;Something you'd be good at &lt;br /&gt;Maybe you would have been &lt;br /&gt;Something I'd be good at &lt;br /&gt;But now we'll never know &lt;br /&gt;I won't be sad &lt;br /&gt;But in case &lt;br /&gt;I'll go there &lt;br /&gt;Everyday, &lt;br /&gt;To make myself feel bad &lt;br /&gt;There's a chance &lt;br /&gt;I'll start to wonder &lt;br /&gt;If this was the thing to do &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Tegan and Sara: Call It Off&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6558720620340990791-3347882020463430406?l=unexpected-positions.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://unexpected-positions.blogspot.com/feeds/3347882020463430406/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6558720620340990791&amp;postID=3347882020463430406' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6558720620340990791/posts/default/3347882020463430406'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6558720620340990791/posts/default/3347882020463430406'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://unexpected-positions.blogspot.com/2010/02/i-start-to-wonder.html' title='I start to wonder...'/><author><name>Remi</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01666480041111911093</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6558720620340990791.post-1759250501988465911</id><published>2010-01-18T00:10:00.001Z</published><updated>2010-01-18T00:12:19.674Z</updated><title type='text'>untitled poem.</title><content type='html'>there are 33 texts on my cell phone that&lt;br /&gt;im afraid to delete, cus i keep thinking&lt;br /&gt;we have lost the connection and you&lt;br /&gt;wont send more.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;they even have a separate folder.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;theres an old note from you in my&lt;br /&gt;notebook that i cant bring myself to &lt;br /&gt;throw away, cus i want to keep the memory&lt;br /&gt;of your feelings towards me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i carry it with me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;theres a time bomb on my mind telling&lt;br /&gt;me to call you, but i dont think you want&lt;br /&gt;to hear all the stupid things i have to say.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i wouldnt know how to put it into words anyway.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;and its just too easy to tell you how angry&lt;br /&gt;i am in an untitled poem that can be&lt;br /&gt;taken so many different ways, but youve&lt;br /&gt;broken me too many times for me to&lt;br /&gt;want to tell you im still in love.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;today ive decided to stop waiting for you.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6558720620340990791-1759250501988465911?l=unexpected-positions.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://unexpected-positions.blogspot.com/feeds/1759250501988465911/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6558720620340990791&amp;postID=1759250501988465911' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6558720620340990791/posts/default/1759250501988465911'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6558720620340990791/posts/default/1759250501988465911'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://unexpected-positions.blogspot.com/2010/01/untitled-poem.html' title='untitled poem.'/><author><name>Remi</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01666480041111911093</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6558720620340990791.post-7456813099602000904</id><published>2009-10-28T21:48:00.001Z</published><updated>2009-10-28T21:49:53.607Z</updated><title type='text'>My last unsent letter to you.</title><content type='html'>You are tattooed all over. Yet I will never show you the tattoo you made on me. In me.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6558720620340990791-7456813099602000904?l=unexpected-positions.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://unexpected-positions.blogspot.com/feeds/7456813099602000904/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6558720620340990791&amp;postID=7456813099602000904' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6558720620340990791/posts/default/7456813099602000904'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6558720620340990791/posts/default/7456813099602000904'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://unexpected-positions.blogspot.com/2009/10/my-last-unsent-letter-to-you.html' title='My last unsent letter to you.'/><author><name>Remi</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01666480041111911093</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6558720620340990791.post-6982585758319297407</id><published>2009-10-04T09:05:00.003+01:00</published><updated>2009-10-04T09:18:35.357+01:00</updated><title type='text'>you make the air melt.</title><content type='html'>nothing unexpected about this. every single time you manage to turn me around. i'm such a sucker. and i know it. you take every fucking opportunity you get to try to kiss me. you're getting better and better at it. it used to be kinda aggressive, pushing me against the wall. but now, oh now you're becoming an expert. you just show up there, i turn around, you move just a bit closer, nothing pushy about it, it's sweet, it makes the air melt, i feel your breath, the sweetness of it, you don't touch me, no hands there, just lips, your mouth slightly open, you eyes slightly closed... i fall for it. every single time. i move towards you, stop, move back, move your way again, and then finally step back, using the last inch of rationality left.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;good thing we have the alcohol to blame?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6558720620340990791-6982585758319297407?l=unexpected-positions.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://unexpected-positions.blogspot.com/feeds/6982585758319297407/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6558720620340990791&amp;postID=6982585758319297407' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6558720620340990791/posts/default/6982585758319297407'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6558720620340990791/posts/default/6982585758319297407'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://unexpected-positions.blogspot.com/2009/10/you-make-air-melt.html' title='you make the air melt.'/><author><name>Remi</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01666480041111911093</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6558720620340990791.post-6755674316682457701</id><published>2009-04-27T21:35:00.001+01:00</published><updated>2009-04-27T21:35:50.839+01:00</updated><title type='text'>unexpected questions in my head</title><content type='html'>&lt;div xmlns='http://www.w3.org/1999/xhtml'&gt;places we had coffees at&lt;br/&gt;when your leg was resting on mine&lt;br/&gt;they still make me pause when i pass them&lt;br/&gt;&lt;br/&gt;split seconds when your scent is too overwhelming&lt;br/&gt;it happens all over town&lt;br/&gt;the confused look on my face when i realize youre not near me&lt;br/&gt;&lt;br/&gt;a girl passes me on the street&lt;br/&gt;i cant help but turn to look after her and smile&lt;br/&gt;she has the exact same walk as you&lt;br/&gt;&lt;br/&gt;i hold on to these&lt;br/&gt;why cant i hold on to you?&lt;br/&gt;&lt;br/&gt;&lt;div class='zemanta-pixie'&gt;&lt;img src='http://img.zemanta.com/pixy.gif?x-id=90429772-1161-8099-be8e-322819ad1fb1' class='zemanta-pixie-img'/&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6558720620340990791-6755674316682457701?l=unexpected-positions.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://unexpected-positions.blogspot.com/feeds/6755674316682457701/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6558720620340990791&amp;postID=6755674316682457701' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6558720620340990791/posts/default/6755674316682457701'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6558720620340990791/posts/default/6755674316682457701'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://unexpected-positions.blogspot.com/2009/04/unexpected-questions-in-my-head.html' title='unexpected questions in my head'/><author><name>Remi</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01666480041111911093</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6558720620340990791.post-4646710296929962881</id><published>2009-04-10T08:36:00.001+01:00</published><updated>2009-04-10T08:36:59.739+01:00</updated><title type='text'>make me stop.</title><content type='html'>i pull her towards me by her hair&lt;br /&gt;(i still remember the smell of yours)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;her lips enjoy exploring my neck&lt;br /&gt;(it was always difficult to tear myself away)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;my hands go lower to her hipbone&lt;br /&gt;(how i loved to hear you sigh)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i can feel her fingers inside me&lt;br /&gt;(remember the sound?)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;her making me cum has become a constant&lt;br /&gt;(every time i imagine its you)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6558720620340990791-4646710296929962881?l=unexpected-positions.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://unexpected-positions.blogspot.com/feeds/4646710296929962881/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6558720620340990791&amp;postID=4646710296929962881' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6558720620340990791/posts/default/4646710296929962881'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6558720620340990791/posts/default/4646710296929962881'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://unexpected-positions.blogspot.com/2009/04/make-me-stop.html' title='make me stop.'/><author><name>Remi</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01666480041111911093</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6558720620340990791.post-8927521033171340455</id><published>2009-02-16T21:59:00.001Z</published><updated>2009-02-16T21:59:40.407Z</updated><title type='text'>a certain april afternoon</title><content type='html'>&lt;div xmlns='http://www.w3.org/1999/xhtml'&gt;she's sitting on my right, her legs crossed&lt;br/&gt;two cups of fresh coffee on table in front of us&lt;br/&gt;enjoying the warmth of last april sun&lt;br/&gt;&lt;br/&gt;she keeps correcting her hair behind her right ear&lt;br/&gt;i took off her sunglasses, i love her green eyes too much&lt;br/&gt;she shakes the teaspoon twice before resting it on plate&lt;br/&gt;sometimes it feels she has a ritual in drinking her coffee&lt;br/&gt;&lt;br/&gt;with the corner of my eye i keep stealing glances of her&lt;br/&gt;world news isn't as interesting as her economy section&lt;br/&gt;my look travels from her eyebrows to her ear&lt;br/&gt;her skin catches sun really easy, i envy her&lt;br/&gt;a shade drops where the collar of the shirt meets her neck&lt;br/&gt;&lt;br/&gt;contrast in the view is inviting&lt;br/&gt;i slide my finger down the collar to the first button&lt;br/&gt;it's undone&lt;br/&gt;she left it like that on purpose&lt;br/&gt;she's a tease&lt;br/&gt;and very good at it&lt;br/&gt;&lt;br/&gt;i exhale a long breath&lt;br/&gt;bite my lower lip&lt;br/&gt;go lower to the second button&lt;br/&gt;it's undone also&lt;br/&gt;of course&lt;br/&gt;almost touching the line of her bra&lt;br/&gt;she looks at me and kills my fantasy&lt;br/&gt;&lt;br/&gt;i miss that white shirt.&lt;br/&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6558720620340990791-8927521033171340455?l=unexpected-positions.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://unexpected-positions.blogspot.com/feeds/8927521033171340455/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6558720620340990791&amp;postID=8927521033171340455' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6558720620340990791/posts/default/8927521033171340455'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6558720620340990791/posts/default/8927521033171340455'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://unexpected-positions.blogspot.com/2009/02/certain-april-afternoon.html' title='a certain april afternoon'/><author><name>Remi</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01666480041111911093</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6558720620340990791.post-1137817766162826929</id><published>2009-01-13T17:16:00.002Z</published><updated>2009-01-13T17:31:43.925Z</updated><title type='text'>If you were a boy...</title><content type='html'>...you would still understand how it feels to love a girl, you would still be a better man, you would still listen to me, you still wouldn't take me for granted, you would love me, respect me, make me smile, you would still do all that you do now...&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;but...&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;...if you were a boy...&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;...i would not have to hide, i would not have to live a lie, &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;   i would tell the world you got me and i got you..&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;...i would do all the cliché things that lovers do. from holding hands to putting my name on your kiss.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;...i would not have to leave the room everytime you call.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;...i would tell the world you're my girl and that i'm your girl.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;object width="425" height="344"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/i2jwotswZkc&amp;hl=en&amp;fs=1"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/i2jwotswZkc&amp;hl=en&amp;fs=1" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="425" height="344"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6558720620340990791-1137817766162826929?l=unexpected-positions.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://unexpected-positions.blogspot.com/feeds/1137817766162826929/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6558720620340990791&amp;postID=1137817766162826929' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6558720620340990791/posts/default/1137817766162826929'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6558720620340990791/posts/default/1137817766162826929'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://unexpected-positions.blogspot.com/2009/01/if-you-were-boy.html' title='If you were a boy...'/><author><name>Remi</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01666480041111911093</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6558720620340990791.post-4439017038533960507</id><published>2008-11-29T15:31:00.000Z</published><updated>2008-11-29T15:32:33.596Z</updated><title type='text'>The Unexpected Sleep</title><content type='html'>&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'; "&gt;&lt;div style="border-top-width: 0px; border-right-width: 0px; border-bottom-width: 0px; border-left-width: 0px; border-style: initial; border-color: initial; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; padding-top: 3px; padding-right: 3px; padding-bottom: 3px; padding-left: 3px; width: auto; font: normal normal normal 100%/normal Georgia, serif; text-align: left; "&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;I don't like to sleep with people. Not in the same room, and especially not in the same bed. I usually don't want to get used to anyone. I usually don't care. I need time. Lots of it. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;With you...with you I just drift away into dreams. I would prefer to stay awake, because it's even better than in beautiful dreams. And you don't rush me into anything. I know it's new for you to take it so slow, but you still do it. Even more, you seem to enjoy it. So there we are, in the same big bed, that song playing over and over again, kissing and hugging and kissing some more, taking the clothes off even if we're cold, kissing all the time and then kissing some more. Your hand slides from my eyes, to my neck and breasts, staying there for a while, your cold hand giving me shivers on my tummy, carefully you move an inch lower, hold on my hipbone, almost confused and scared with not knowing how much further you should go... and you don't go... you repeat that way in the opposite direction... and like that for another two hours. Every now and then you stop and stare, you call me beautiful, you hardly dare to kiss me while I can't wait to accept that kiss. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;And then I fall asleep, somewhere in between, already smiling because I know you'll be there in the morning...&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6558720620340990791-4439017038533960507?l=unexpected-positions.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://unexpected-positions.blogspot.com/feeds/4439017038533960507/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6558720620340990791&amp;postID=4439017038533960507' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6558720620340990791/posts/default/4439017038533960507'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6558720620340990791/posts/default/4439017038533960507'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://unexpected-positions.blogspot.com/2008/11/unexpected-sleep.html' title='The Unexpected Sleep'/><author><name>Remi</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01666480041111911093</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6558720620340990791.post-4256115244879985593</id><published>2008-11-20T09:54:00.000Z</published><updated>2009-01-19T09:54:48.092Z</updated><title type='text'>for those seconds youre mine</title><content type='html'>stealing brief moments when our hands accidentally touch&lt;br /&gt;occasional smell of your hair&lt;br /&gt;the longing of kissing you when your lips barely left mine&lt;br /&gt;feeling of stupidity when in lack of words to make you smile&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;red spots you left on back of my neck a sore reminded of missing.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6558720620340990791-4256115244879985593?l=unexpected-positions.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://unexpected-positions.blogspot.com/feeds/4256115244879985593/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6558720620340990791&amp;postID=4256115244879985593' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6558720620340990791/posts/default/4256115244879985593'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6558720620340990791/posts/default/4256115244879985593'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://unexpected-positions.blogspot.com/2008/11/for-those-seconds-youre-mine.html' title='for those seconds youre mine'/><author><name>Remi</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01666480041111911093</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6558720620340990791.post-4892424760871477259</id><published>2008-11-18T14:49:00.002Z</published><updated>2008-11-18T15:38:14.338Z</updated><title type='text'>The Unexpected Once</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;I never wanted to do it in a car. It always seemed too we-have-to-have-sex-now-or-my-libido-will-explode. Still, with some guys I tried. But I stopped before the foreplay took its road. Then I met her. I knew she wanted to fuck me all over, I could see it in her eyes when she put on her slightly mean face and leaned herself back to the fence in the club, almost falling down into the crowd. I guess she wouldn't mind if you fell, she'd keep her badass look, get herself another beer and check out the body of the hot chick on the dancefloor.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;So she came on to me, I told her to not even try because I am very much immune to her and the games she does. She played it somewhere between cool and hard. God knows it worked. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;She took me to a party. Just you and me, she said. Yeah right, I replied. So many chicks, some damn fuckable, some there just to make the place full. Still she never let me go, she danced around me, with me, pushing me to the wall and diving with her fingers to some rather forbidden places. Well, I'm not sure I could call them forbidden, after all, &lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;"&gt;my thighs have been involved in many accidents. &lt;/span&gt;Ok, I'll stop being such a Mary Lou and say that if it wasn't for such a bloody conservative society we live in, I'd make all the shiny bulbs shine directly onto your hands on my breasts. I'm sure you wouldn't mind, probably it would be a reason more for you to do it. So much about low profile, huh?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;I could hardly wait for the party to finish, the music wasn't that good in a first place and the drinks aren't so sweet when you're broke. So we left. Home. Of course. Where else. I couldn't keep my eyes of her neck. Or her lips, for that matter. We sat into the car, ignoring the fact that maybe we should talk a bit and went straight to kissing. She doesn't know how to kiss slowly, gently, at least not to my knowledge. She eats you, bit by bit, lip by lip, sometimes her teeth hit yours to the extent when you spontaneously move back. But you return right away. Her touch is the same. She grabs you, she has more passion in her than...ah, i don't know! She stripped me, not caring about permissions, so I did the same to her, we fought for control, I thought I won, but she stroke back, her head was above mine all the time, she stopped for a second to look me straight in the eyes, she looked down making me think that perhaps she has a soul, she fucked me so hard that I felt her in me for another week. It all lasted surprisingly short, but... I could swear the mountaines moved. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6558720620340990791-4892424760871477259?l=unexpected-positions.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://unexpected-positions.blogspot.com/feeds/4892424760871477259/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6558720620340990791&amp;postID=4892424760871477259' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6558720620340990791/posts/default/4892424760871477259'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6558720620340990791/posts/default/4892424760871477259'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://unexpected-positions.blogspot.com/2008/11/unexpected-once.html' title='The Unexpected Once'/><author><name>Remi</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01666480041111911093</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6558720620340990791.post-2851888651291923882</id><published>2008-11-12T10:23:00.003Z</published><updated>2008-11-12T10:29:53.652Z</updated><title type='text'>What does it mean, if every time you are close to me</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://www.foundshit.com/images/tongue-tattoo.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 500px;" src="http://www.foundshit.com/images/tongue-tattoo.jpg" border="0" alt="" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I get all nervous, &lt;div&gt;I smile almost hysterically,&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I only know how to look into the ground or into your eyes,&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;and when you take all the control and come closer&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;and you want to kiss me and that makes my organs shake inside?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Maybe it is easy to explain why all this...but I don't know...and I never felt all that...and no,  I will never confes it to you.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6558720620340990791-2851888651291923882?l=unexpected-positions.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://unexpected-positions.blogspot.com/feeds/2851888651291923882/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6558720620340990791&amp;postID=2851888651291923882' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6558720620340990791/posts/default/2851888651291923882'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6558720620340990791/posts/default/2851888651291923882'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://unexpected-positions.blogspot.com/2008/11/what-does-it-mean-if-every-time-you-are.html' title='What does it mean, if every time you are close to me'/><author><name>Remi</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01666480041111911093</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6558720620340990791.post-4401236766385135641</id><published>2008-11-10T09:52:00.000Z</published><updated>2009-01-19T09:52:43.146Z</updated><title type='text'>untitled</title><content type='html'>why dont you tell me to stop..&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;looking for you in the crowd&lt;br /&gt;trying so hard to fix my eyes on something on streets below so i wouldnt stare into your eyes&lt;br /&gt;messaging you stupid things so that youd reply&lt;br /&gt;telling you to move closer cus id like you to tell me the same&lt;br /&gt;finding every possible opportunity to touch you, even if only with my fingertips&lt;br /&gt;wanting him to leave so that i could be at ease with kissing you&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6558720620340990791-4401236766385135641?l=unexpected-positions.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://unexpected-positions.blogspot.com/feeds/4401236766385135641/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6558720620340990791&amp;postID=4401236766385135641' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6558720620340990791/posts/default/4401236766385135641'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6558720620340990791/posts/default/4401236766385135641'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://unexpected-positions.blogspot.com/2008/11/untitled.html' title='untitled'/><author><name>Remi</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01666480041111911093</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6558720620340990791.post-1036911611926486175</id><published>2008-11-02T23:10:00.004Z</published><updated>2008-11-02T23:51:48.733Z</updated><title type='text'>How you all confuse me sometimes. Sometimes like now.</title><content type='html'>&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;Something made me think of all of you who ever touched me on a higher level than just coming close to my breasts. I guess it is boredome's fault. Maybe it's the music. I can put each and every one of you in a verse. At least how I feel about you in this exact moment. It's so much more than love or whatever that thing is called. It's the fact that you're not here and most probably nothing major will ever happen (at least knowing the sometimes retarded me), but it still feels like you're on my bed with me, just lying there, going through my hair with your hand because you know how much it callms me down and that I will eventually fall asleep, eventhough I hate to sleep with people around. I guess you are not people. Not even one person. Maybe I never even met you and you are just a construct I created in my mind because I needed something good. And all the bad that comes with it. Hum, I'm adult, a?:) I'm sorry, I got stuck only talking about you. Still, some people in my life, the past and the present...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;So I go from&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;Oh we said some things that we can never take back, &lt;br /&gt;It's like a train wreck tryna hit the right track, &lt;br /&gt;We opened up the wine and we just let it breathe, &lt;br /&gt;But we shoulda drank it down while it was still sweet...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic; "&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;to&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="line-height: 16px; "&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;E se eu achar a tua fonte escondida&lt;br /&gt;Te alcanço em cheio, o mel e a ferida&lt;br /&gt;E o corpo inteiro como um furacão&lt;br /&gt;Boca, nuca, mão e a tua mente não&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic; line-height: 16px; "&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="line-height: 16px; "&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;and then you cross my mind with something only you can...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="line-height: 16px; "&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="line-height: 16px; "&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="line-height: normal; -webkit-border-horizontal-spacing: 2px; -webkit-border-vertical-spacing: 2px; "&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;Do you remember me? &lt;br /&gt;I was the one that held you through &lt;br /&gt;I held the spotlight when you did that crazy dance&lt;br /&gt;I danced with you, I felt like superstars do &lt;br /&gt;Me and you &lt;br /&gt;We're just like superstars &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic; -webkit-border-horizontal-spacing: 2px; -webkit-border-vertical-spacing: 2px; "&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="-webkit-border-horizontal-spacing: 2px; -webkit-border-vertical-spacing: 2px; "&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;And I could give more. But this already occupied my mind enough for tonight. And to fall asleep peacefully, I will finish the post also with you my I.wish.you.wouldn't.feel.so.good.in.my.mind.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="-webkit-border-horizontal-spacing: 2px; -webkit-border-vertical-spacing: 2px; "&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="-webkit-border-horizontal-spacing: 2px; -webkit-border-vertical-spacing: 2px; "&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="border-collapse: collapse; -webkit-border-horizontal-spacing: 0px; -webkit-border-vertical-spacing: 0px; "&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;But I want, want, want to be your love&lt;br /&gt;Want to be your love for real.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"   style=" ;font-family:Verdana;font-size:13px;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6558720620340990791-1036911611926486175?l=unexpected-positions.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://unexpected-positions.blogspot.com/feeds/1036911611926486175/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6558720620340990791&amp;postID=1036911611926486175' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6558720620340990791/posts/default/1036911611926486175'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6558720620340990791/posts/default/1036911611926486175'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://unexpected-positions.blogspot.com/2008/11/how-you-all-confuse-me-sometimes.html' title='How you all confuse me sometimes. Sometimes like now.'/><author><name>Remi</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01666480041111911093</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6558720620340990791.post-7977530066306147187</id><published>2008-11-01T09:53:00.000Z</published><updated>2009-01-19T09:54:21.366Z</updated><title type='text'>in my head im screaming "dont dare to move away"</title><content type='html'>when you leaned over to me and took me by surprise&lt;br /&gt;moved your head close&lt;br /&gt;breathed in deeply and sent shivers down my spine&lt;br /&gt;tip of your nose touched mine&lt;br /&gt;i could almost smell your skin&lt;br /&gt;i close my eyes, letting things unwrap by themselves&lt;br /&gt;your warm breath on my lips lingers&lt;br /&gt;and after what seemed an eternity&lt;br /&gt;your top lip touches mine&lt;br /&gt;your bottom lip touches mine&lt;br /&gt;i breathe in, welcome the feeling down there&lt;br /&gt;our tongues meet&lt;br /&gt;and..&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6558720620340990791-7977530066306147187?l=unexpected-positions.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://unexpected-positions.blogspot.com/feeds/7977530066306147187/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6558720620340990791&amp;postID=7977530066306147187' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6558720620340990791/posts/default/7977530066306147187'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6558720620340990791/posts/default/7977530066306147187'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://unexpected-positions.blogspot.com/2008/11/in-my-head-im-screaming-dont-dare-to_01.html' title='in my head im screaming &quot;dont dare to move away&quot;'/><author><name>Remi</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01666480041111911093</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6558720620340990791.post-908229062142715024</id><published>2008-10-09T10:26:00.002+01:00</published><updated>2008-10-09T10:31:08.858+01:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>Completely out of the context that usually follows this blog (or is it the blog following the context? eh, doesn't matter), me and my friends have now done a test. It's one of those enlightening web pages that tell you pretty much everything about you. At least this one is fun. It's called Gay-O-Meter and you can find it on &lt;a href="http://www.channel4.com/life/microsites/G/gayometer/gayometer.html"&gt;this&lt;/a&gt; link. As for my results, I'm:&lt;div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;img src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_ft1CfqK8_Fo/SO3PQi-fMiI/AAAAAAAAAAc/eaHa7HUamLM/s400/remiisgay.jpg" style="text-align: left;float: left; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 10px; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: 0px; cursor: pointer; " border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5255084223384990242" /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6558720620340990791-908229062142715024?l=unexpected-positions.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://unexpected-positions.blogspot.com/feeds/908229062142715024/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6558720620340990791&amp;postID=908229062142715024' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6558720620340990791/posts/default/908229062142715024'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6558720620340990791/posts/default/908229062142715024'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://unexpected-positions.blogspot.com/2008/10/completely-out-of-context-that-usually.html' title=''/><author><name>Remi</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01666480041111911093</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_ft1CfqK8_Fo/SO3PQi-fMiI/AAAAAAAAAAc/eaHa7HUamLM/s72-c/remiisgay.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6558720620340990791.post-7708757329291369469</id><published>2008-09-29T09:54:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2009-01-19T09:55:24.340Z</updated><title type='text'>and if a promise</title><content type='html'>i dont know how you do that&lt;br /&gt;your thumb would seem to roll on my clit&lt;br /&gt;ive asked you plenty of times&lt;br /&gt;you never know how to explain&lt;br /&gt;you just give me that look.. yeah, THAT look.&lt;br /&gt;ive tried it on myself but it was never the same&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;honestly? i dont care to know&lt;br /&gt;i just want you to do it&lt;br /&gt;and if i promise your girl will never know,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;could you do it again?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6558720620340990791-7708757329291369469?l=unexpected-positions.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://unexpected-positions.blogspot.com/feeds/7708757329291369469/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6558720620340990791&amp;postID=7708757329291369469' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6558720620340990791/posts/default/7708757329291369469'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6558720620340990791/posts/default/7708757329291369469'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://unexpected-positions.blogspot.com/2008/09/and-if-promise.html' title='and if a promise'/><author><name>Remi</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01666480041111911093</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6558720620340990791.post-8859576542039334698</id><published>2008-09-27T00:32:00.001+01:00</published><updated>2008-09-27T00:35:31.725+01:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_ft1CfqK8_Fo/SN1xvNYqyLI/AAAAAAAAAAU/0owGFoHONJU/s1600-h/awshucks.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_ft1CfqK8_Fo/SN1xvNYqyLI/AAAAAAAAAAU/0owGFoHONJU/s400/awshucks.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5250477796444784818" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_ft1CfqK8_Fo/SN1xiJXLXKI/AAAAAAAAAAM/t6aUDWrhHd8/s1600-h/awshucks.jpg"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:x-small;"&gt;from: A Softer World&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6558720620340990791-8859576542039334698?l=unexpected-positions.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://unexpected-positions.blogspot.com/feeds/8859576542039334698/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6558720620340990791&amp;postID=8859576542039334698' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6558720620340990791/posts/default/8859576542039334698'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6558720620340990791/posts/default/8859576542039334698'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://unexpected-positions.blogspot.com/2008/09/from-softer-world.html' title=''/><author><name>Remi</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01666480041111911093</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_ft1CfqK8_Fo/SN1xvNYqyLI/AAAAAAAAAAU/0owGFoHONJU/s72-c/awshucks.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6558720620340990791.post-8566003174904785612</id><published>2008-09-22T22:29:00.003+01:00</published><updated>2008-09-22T22:32:44.218+01:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>You are so close to me&lt;div&gt;that with others&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I feel cold.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="width:220px;height:55px;"&gt;&lt;object width="220" height="55"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.deezer.com/embedded/small-widget-v2.swf?idSong=13434&amp;amp;colorBackground=0x555552&amp;amp;textColor1=0xFFFFFF&amp;amp;colorVolume=0x39D1FD&amp;amp;autoplay=0"&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.deezer.com/embedded/small-widget-v2.swf?idSong=13434&amp;amp;colorBackground=0x525252&amp;amp;textColor1=0xFFFFFF&amp;amp;colorVolume=0x39D1FD&amp;amp;autoplay=0" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" width="220" height="55"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 10px;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6558720620340990791-8566003174904785612?l=unexpected-positions.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://unexpected-positions.blogspot.com/feeds/8566003174904785612/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6558720620340990791&amp;postID=8566003174904785612' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6558720620340990791/posts/default/8566003174904785612'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6558720620340990791/posts/default/8566003174904785612'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://unexpected-positions.blogspot.com/2008/09/you-are-so-close-to-me-that-with-others.html' title=''/><author><name>Remi</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01666480041111911093</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6558720620340990791.post-1272570499391024888</id><published>2008-09-21T21:43:00.001+01:00</published><updated>2008-09-21T21:43:33.969+01:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>You like the sound.&lt;div&gt;I like making it more.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6558720620340990791-1272570499391024888?l=unexpected-positions.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://unexpected-positions.blogspot.com/feeds/1272570499391024888/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6558720620340990791&amp;postID=1272570499391024888' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6558720620340990791/posts/default/1272570499391024888'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6558720620340990791/posts/default/1272570499391024888'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://unexpected-positions.blogspot.com/2008/09/you-like-sound.html' title=''/><author><name>Remi</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01666480041111911093</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6558720620340990791.post-1500312945202689844</id><published>2008-09-15T22:39:00.002+01:00</published><updated>2008-09-15T22:43:28.532+01:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>Fuck you &lt;div&gt;and your untouchable face&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;and the fact that you are so far&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;and that feeling you seem to teleport all the way here&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;eventhough i press the 'reject' button and i seriously mean it &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;and you keep doing it, getting under my skin and&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;changing my colour into the coloured yours&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;and for existing in the first place...&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;fuck you.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6558720620340990791-1500312945202689844?l=unexpected-positions.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://unexpected-positions.blogspot.com/feeds/1500312945202689844/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6558720620340990791&amp;postID=1500312945202689844' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6558720620340990791/posts/default/1500312945202689844'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6558720620340990791/posts/default/1500312945202689844'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://unexpected-positions.blogspot.com/2008/09/fuck-you-and-your-untouchable-face-and.html' title=''/><author><name>Remi</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01666480041111911093</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6558720620340990791.post-4639360628408760363</id><published>2008-09-09T09:55:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2009-01-19T09:56:03.434Z</updated><title type='text'>humour takes it better than me</title><content type='html'>lets go watch the sea, touch the water with our toes.&lt;br /&gt;slowly, only on the surface.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;or, lets just sit in a café and talk.&lt;br /&gt;i dont care about what, i just want to see your excitement.&lt;br /&gt;martini can come, too.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;but, lets just go!&lt;br /&gt;away, from here.&lt;br /&gt;i need it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;no phones, no internet, no people, no crowd, no distractions.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i want to hear you breathe, want to see you looking back at me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;ill never ask you out loud, tho.&lt;br /&gt;not without turning it into a joke very next second.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6558720620340990791-4639360628408760363?l=unexpected-positions.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://unexpected-positions.blogspot.com/feeds/4639360628408760363/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6558720620340990791&amp;postID=4639360628408760363' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6558720620340990791/posts/default/4639360628408760363'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6558720620340990791/posts/default/4639360628408760363'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://unexpected-positions.blogspot.com/2008/09/humour-takes-it-better-than-me_09.html' title='humour takes it better than me'/><author><name>Remi</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01666480041111911093</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6558720620340990791.post-1635133487371558820</id><published>2008-09-04T10:01:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2009-01-19T10:01:43.182Z</updated><title type='text'>its almost like a show</title><content type='html'>night crawls up on me like an enemy&lt;br /&gt;day fades, with it thoughts of you&lt;br /&gt;an occasional memory of your hair or your smile&lt;br /&gt;they make me weak, at the same time unforgiving.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;they said i shouldnt do it, i shouldnt give myself to you&lt;br /&gt;yet i seek your face in the crowd, daydream of your kiss, imagine your touch.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;burying my morals and principles&lt;br /&gt;i seem to be too good at that lately&lt;br /&gt;theyve stopped being important, they mean nothing.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;you walk away with a wave of your hand&lt;br /&gt;fixing your hair behind your ear and inhaling on your cigarette&lt;br /&gt;a longing spectator is what you make of me.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6558720620340990791-1635133487371558820?l=unexpected-positions.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://unexpected-positions.blogspot.com/feeds/1635133487371558820/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6558720620340990791&amp;postID=1635133487371558820' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6558720620340990791/posts/default/1635133487371558820'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6558720620340990791/posts/default/1635133487371558820'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://unexpected-positions.blogspot.com/2008/09/its-almost-like-show_04.html' title='its almost like a show'/><author><name>Remi</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01666480041111911093</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6558720620340990791.post-3194056946492920587</id><published>2008-08-14T09:56:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2009-01-19T09:56:23.997Z</updated><title type='text'>the unexpected fact</title><content type='html'>all i have are words.&lt;br /&gt;and sometimes theyre not enough.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6558720620340990791-3194056946492920587?l=unexpected-positions.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://unexpected-positions.blogspot.com/feeds/3194056946492920587/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6558720620340990791&amp;postID=3194056946492920587' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6558720620340990791/posts/default/3194056946492920587'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6558720620340990791/posts/default/3194056946492920587'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://unexpected-positions.blogspot.com/2008/08/unexpected-fact_14.html' title='the unexpected fact'/><author><name>Remi</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01666480041111911093</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6558720620340990791.post-1166431034481516523</id><published>2008-08-10T09:59:00.002+01:00</published><updated>2008-08-10T11:30:44.298+01:00</updated><title type='text'>The wrong unexpected</title><content type='html'>It's the kissing that matters.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;I was with this girl for some time. Her hand seemed to fit mine. Her lips seemed to fit mine. Her body seemed to fit mine.  Her thoughts seemed to fit mine. I loved her. I loved making love to her. Until one day.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It was late and we went to bed. I thought we'd sleep, but she started touching me.  Her right hand went straight from my tummy down to my pjs and in. It was the same gentle hand, the same intense touch as always.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;she didn't kiss me. Not once. She was just there, and I was just there.&lt;br /&gt;I'm still not completely sure, but it just might've been the worst feeling I ever had. She felt like fucking me, but she didn't feel like kissing me. I had to stop her. And couldn't have sex with her again. And it all ended bad. But even if it didn't, I couldn't do it again. And I don't care what your fingers can do or how fast you can make me come. I couldn't do it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6558720620340990791-1166431034481516523?l=unexpected-positions.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://unexpected-positions.blogspot.com/feeds/1166431034481516523/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6558720620340990791&amp;postID=1166431034481516523' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6558720620340990791/posts/default/1166431034481516523'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6558720620340990791/posts/default/1166431034481516523'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://unexpected-positions.blogspot.com/2008/08/wrong-unexpected.html' title='The wrong unexpected'/><author><name>Remi</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01666480041111911093</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6558720620340990791.post-865821444018196132</id><published>2008-08-03T03:03:00.003+01:00</published><updated>2008-08-03T03:20:26.648+01:00</updated><title type='text'>She somehow stayed.</title><content type='html'>She somehow stayed.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;I don't want anyone around me. It's just me. And myself and all that. And I'm enough to myself. Fuck, I can even be too much to myself.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;She somehow stayed.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I admit, I never told her to leave. I guess I never wanted it. She came slowly, as this calm person, this "don't bug me and trust me, I shall not bug you" person. Then she smiled. Not at the beginning, a bit later. Now she smiles more. As if I was funnier now. She has her own life happening. A rather full one, I must say. As everyone else, I expected her to leave.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;She somehow stayed.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;Then, one day I smelled her hair. I shouldn't have, I was in no position to do that. I was to involved. She didn't notice it. She was talking about her sister. And she listened to me talk about my mother. It was perhaps the calmest moment in my life. The one when small talk becomes so big, when big words become so easy to spell, when blue eyes become so much more than a cliché.  Then she explained how she was going to work somewhere out of the country.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;She somehow stayed.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;She wanted to kiss me one day. I only know it now. Maybe it's better that way. Otherwise it might've gone too fast. It wouldn't be fair to any of us. You know, she never seems confused. But she is. I know it, I just can't define it when it happens. She just doesn't look into my eyes. But she rarely does anyway. I wish she did it more often. It would calm me down. She has that effect and again, she doesn't even know it. So much she doesn't know. She doesn't need to touch me for me to be with her. I don't need her smell anymore, I know it way too well. She could leave anytime.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;She somehow stayed.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And I never asked her to stay. She just did. And I would never ask her to stay. Despite my pride and ego and all, I doubt it would be smart for her to stay. Having so much in me, I cannot name one thing I could give her.  So many times I almost asked her to leave.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;She somehow stayed.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I hope she stays one moment more.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6558720620340990791-865821444018196132?l=unexpected-positions.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://unexpected-positions.blogspot.com/feeds/865821444018196132/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6558720620340990791&amp;postID=865821444018196132' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6558720620340990791/posts/default/865821444018196132'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6558720620340990791/posts/default/865821444018196132'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://unexpected-positions.blogspot.com/2008/08/she-somehow-stayed.html' title='She somehow stayed.'/><author><name>Remi</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01666480041111911093</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6558720620340990791.post-3815178426194203457</id><published>2008-08-02T09:56:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2009-01-19T09:56:51.283Z</updated><title type='text'>its just 1's and 0's</title><content type='html'>after she logs off i remain sitting and i stare at the screen.&lt;br /&gt;i leave the chat window open, dont know why.&lt;br /&gt;maybe im hoping shed come back and send me that "*".&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;*&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;im not gonna lie, i cant feel it on my lips.&lt;br /&gt;its simple binary code, its just 1's and 0's.&lt;br /&gt;..and yet, its what i crave for. i want it over and over again.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;when she turns on her webcam and image finally appears i murmur a "hello".&lt;br /&gt;dont know why i do it, she doesnt hear it.&lt;br /&gt;and then i stare.&lt;br /&gt;at her eyebrows, her lips, that joker-like smile, the tip of her nose.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;her.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;its weird feeling this way towards someone&lt;br /&gt;that ive spent more time talking to online than in real life.&lt;br /&gt;..and i keep telling myself that its just 1's and 0's.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6558720620340990791-3815178426194203457?l=unexpected-positions.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://unexpected-positions.blogspot.com/feeds/3815178426194203457/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6558720620340990791&amp;postID=3815178426194203457' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6558720620340990791/posts/default/3815178426194203457'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6558720620340990791/posts/default/3815178426194203457'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://unexpected-positions.blogspot.com/2008/08/its-just-1s-and-0s_02.html' title='its just 1&apos;s and 0&apos;s'/><author><name>Remi</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01666480041111911093</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6558720620340990791.post-8996585313408825741</id><published>2008-07-28T09:56:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2009-01-19T09:57:31.034Z</updated><title type='text'>so i held her.</title><content type='html'>"and later?"&lt;br /&gt;she shook her head, as if to say "dont prolong this, you know i have to go."&lt;br /&gt;so i stopped, i didnt tell her all i wanted to say.&lt;br /&gt;all? i didnt say any of it.&lt;br /&gt;ive never been that good with spoken words anyway.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;so i held her.&lt;br /&gt;listened to her breathing, caressed her hair,&lt;br /&gt;memorized her skin, looked into her big blue-green-beautiful eyes.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"kiss?"&lt;br /&gt;she shook her head.&lt;br /&gt;looking straight at me, holding eye contact. waiting for a response.&lt;br /&gt;i guess the only thing she could see on my face was surprise.&lt;br /&gt;maybe shock, but thatd be exaggerated.&lt;br /&gt;i may not know her well, but i know sometimes she does things without thinking.&lt;br /&gt;i was hoping this was one of them.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;so i held her.&lt;br /&gt;watched her fingers slid carefully over my painted skin.&lt;br /&gt;i wondered what she was thinking.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"kiss?!", i implored her bit later.&lt;br /&gt;she shook her head. again.&lt;br /&gt;this time i had to look away, i couldnt stand it.&lt;br /&gt;i didnt want her to read me, they say i have the "you hurt me" look.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;so i held her.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6558720620340990791-8996585313408825741?l=unexpected-positions.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://unexpected-positions.blogspot.com/feeds/8996585313408825741/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6558720620340990791&amp;postID=8996585313408825741' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6558720620340990791/posts/default/8996585313408825741'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6558720620340990791/posts/default/8996585313408825741'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://unexpected-positions.blogspot.com/2008/07/so-i-held-her_28.html' title='so i held her.'/><author><name>Remi</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01666480041111911093</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6558720620340990791.post-8806646118105876013</id><published>2008-07-04T09:57:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2009-01-19T09:57:59.519Z</updated><title type='text'>fucked if i know</title><content type='html'>you know, with a single line you could make me yours.&lt;br /&gt;(arent i already?)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;what would it mean?&lt;br /&gt;thoughts and feelings commingling&lt;br /&gt;the taste of me on your tongue&lt;br /&gt;the scent of you under my fingernails.&lt;br /&gt;(scared yet?)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;theres more.&lt;br /&gt;being broken, crying, joy and wild laughter,&lt;br /&gt;blank stares, anger and punches throw into the air.&lt;br /&gt;stupidity, boredom, passion and drama.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;why do you take all things in stride?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;yet, i... think youre cool.&lt;br /&gt;(almost, already.)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6558720620340990791-8806646118105876013?l=unexpected-positions.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://unexpected-positions.blogspot.com/feeds/8806646118105876013/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6558720620340990791&amp;postID=8806646118105876013' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6558720620340990791/posts/default/8806646118105876013'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6558720620340990791/posts/default/8806646118105876013'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://unexpected-positions.blogspot.com/2008/07/fucked-if-i-know_04.html' title='fucked if i know'/><author><name>Remi</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01666480041111911093</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6558720620340990791.post-1277949880800277169</id><published>2008-06-24T17:00:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2008-06-24T17:01:10.557+01:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>I can't do it as I usually would. Not like I'd do it here. So I'll do it like this...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;object width="425" height="344"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/S_oLCJIYOVU&amp;hl=en"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/S_oLCJIYOVU&amp;hl=en" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" width="425" height="344"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6558720620340990791-1277949880800277169?l=unexpected-positions.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://unexpected-positions.blogspot.com/feeds/1277949880800277169/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6558720620340990791&amp;postID=1277949880800277169' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6558720620340990791/posts/default/1277949880800277169'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6558720620340990791/posts/default/1277949880800277169'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://unexpected-positions.blogspot.com/2008/06/i-cant-do-it-as-i-usually-would.html' title=''/><author><name>Remi</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01666480041111911093</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6558720620340990791.post-4220488104108095581</id><published>2008-06-11T09:58:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2009-01-19T09:58:25.489Z</updated><title type='text'>new photos required</title><content type='html'>today i looked at the photo album of my mind,&lt;br /&gt;and photographs are getting kinda faded.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;the touch of your hair on my face.&lt;br /&gt;(why would you think id mind??)&lt;br /&gt;your smell.&lt;br /&gt;(i actually refused to wash my hands that day.)&lt;br /&gt;you.&lt;br /&gt;(somehow i can still taste you on the tip of my tongue.)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;and then i think,&lt;br /&gt;was it the same for you?&lt;br /&gt;did you like it?&lt;br /&gt;perhaps, enjoy it?&lt;br /&gt;did you even relax enough to let me in?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i need to take new photos.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6558720620340990791-4220488104108095581?l=unexpected-positions.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://unexpected-positions.blogspot.com/feeds/4220488104108095581/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6558720620340990791&amp;postID=4220488104108095581' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6558720620340990791/posts/default/4220488104108095581'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6558720620340990791/posts/default/4220488104108095581'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://unexpected-positions.blogspot.com/2008/06/new-photos-required_11.html' title='new photos required'/><author><name>Remi</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01666480041111911093</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6558720620340990791.post-3476673921636299327</id><published>2008-05-20T10:00:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2009-01-19T10:01:17.023Z</updated><title type='text'>Santa Bandana (pt 2)</title><content type='html'>soon you showed you didnt plan on being only a stranger;&lt;br /&gt;your hands on my face, your lips on mine,&lt;br /&gt;your hips thrusting against my body.&lt;br /&gt;apparently you were in a hurry.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i slow you down,&lt;br /&gt;"we've got all nite, youre not going back to setúbal today!"&lt;br /&gt;your first reaction was one of panic,&lt;br /&gt;but was easily dismissed by a slow suck of your tongue.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i undo your bra, you undid mine.&lt;br /&gt;i almost took off your shirt, i wanted to kiss your breasts.&lt;br /&gt;you grab hold of my hand, reminding me we're in public.&lt;br /&gt;"right.. ahem.. sorry"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i bury my head in that spot between your neck and shoulders,&lt;br /&gt;you bite my earlobe and moan loudly, not caring for people passing by.&lt;br /&gt;it turns me on even more than your hand between my legs.&lt;br /&gt;i guess you understood immediately my thoughts,&lt;br /&gt;why else would you then quietly whisper "please fuck me now"?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i pull you upwards and you wrap your legs around my body.&lt;br /&gt;positioning yourself onto my hips and finding my lips,&lt;br /&gt;i reluctantly let go off your hair&lt;br /&gt;and put my arm underneath you to keep you from falling.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i undo your pants and slip in my hand.&lt;br /&gt;with a disbelief in your eyes you look at me&lt;br /&gt;when i take it back out and lick my finger.&lt;br /&gt;"just to know how you taste like before you cum."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;your eyes widen as i put my finger back in you&lt;br /&gt;and you keep them open all the time, looking straight at me,&lt;br /&gt;closing them only when i feel that familiar pressure on my fingers&lt;br /&gt;and that warmth on my hand.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;afterwards i remain standing still for what seems an eternity,&lt;br /&gt;with your head lying heavy on my shoulder.&lt;br /&gt;few hours later you left and didnt make that promised call.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6558720620340990791-3476673921636299327?l=unexpected-positions.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://unexpected-positions.blogspot.com/feeds/3476673921636299327/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6558720620340990791&amp;postID=3476673921636299327' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6558720620340990791/posts/default/3476673921636299327'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6558720620340990791/posts/default/3476673921636299327'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://unexpected-positions.blogspot.com/2008/05/santa-bandana-pt-2.html' title='Santa Bandana (pt 2)'/><author><name>Remi</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01666480041111911093</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6558720620340990791.post-6070401766715844880</id><published>2008-05-12T09:59:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2009-01-19T10:00:03.891Z</updated><title type='text'>going around in a circle</title><content type='html'>rachel wants to be my love in the morning,&lt;br /&gt;and i want nothing more but to invite her in..&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;in the afternoon dmb is saying goodbye,&lt;br /&gt;and my doubts and fears are waving back..&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;in the evening&lt;br /&gt;i just miss you.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6558720620340990791-6070401766715844880?l=unexpected-positions.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://unexpected-positions.blogspot.com/feeds/6070401766715844880/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6558720620340990791&amp;postID=6070401766715844880' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6558720620340990791/posts/default/6070401766715844880'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6558720620340990791/posts/default/6070401766715844880'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://unexpected-positions.blogspot.com/2008/05/going-around-in-circle_12.html' title='going around in a circle'/><author><name>Remi</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01666480041111911093</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6558720620340990791.post-5461035187504014339</id><published>2008-05-09T09:59:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2009-01-19T09:59:28.047Z</updated><title type='text'>having feelings</title><content type='html'>why do you do that?&lt;br /&gt;why you keep me hanging on?&lt;br /&gt;its like youre giving me a smell of a bone, and then you take it away&lt;br /&gt;before i could even get a taste.&lt;br /&gt;better yet- you give me a taste of something and you watch me enjoy it.&lt;br /&gt;and then, then when i am almost begging you for more, you take it away.&lt;br /&gt;you confuse me.&lt;br /&gt;that huge grin on your face..&lt;br /&gt;i wish i knew what youre thinking then.&lt;br /&gt;right at that moment.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i know, youre probably thinking to yourself that youre being more&lt;br /&gt;honest than ever.&lt;br /&gt;but being honest is not the same as speaking bloody english!&lt;br /&gt;what the hell do you want me to do with "this song reminded me of you&lt;br /&gt;even before"??&lt;br /&gt;what does that mean?&lt;br /&gt;yes, i need you to spell it out for me!&lt;br /&gt;would that be so hard for you?&lt;br /&gt;why?&lt;br /&gt;its not like youd be going out on a limb, you already know how i feel.&lt;br /&gt;you already know that i am falling for you, even if you are miles away.&lt;br /&gt;even if it was less than 48 hours.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;im not trying to act stupid, i really am not.&lt;br /&gt;but there are certain things that i will not believe until you say them outloud,&lt;br /&gt;until you scream them in my face with your vein on your forehead&lt;br /&gt;sticking out cus it takes that much out of you!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;and if that makes you need to say things or, god forbid, act human..&lt;br /&gt;well, tough luck.&lt;br /&gt;its called having feelings for someone.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6558720620340990791-5461035187504014339?l=unexpected-positions.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://unexpected-positions.blogspot.com/feeds/5461035187504014339/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6558720620340990791&amp;postID=5461035187504014339' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6558720620340990791/posts/default/5461035187504014339'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6558720620340990791/posts/default/5461035187504014339'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://unexpected-positions.blogspot.com/2008/05/having-feelings_09.html' title='having feelings'/><author><name>Remi</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01666480041111911093</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6558720620340990791.post-1453895045161153132</id><published>2008-05-03T09:58:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2009-01-19T09:58:59.327Z</updated><title type='text'>and what did i do?</title><content type='html'>voices were screaming in my head so loud i had to almost put a pillow over my head to stop hearing them.&lt;br /&gt;kiss her! kiss her, you fool! what are you waiting for?! are you crazy? she wants it, too! cant you see?!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;but i didnt see it.&lt;br /&gt;or maybe i did and chose not to. chose to ignore it.&lt;br /&gt;all this time that i was ignoring what i really wanted to do at that time..&lt;br /&gt;no, falling asleep and talking about my thumb was not what i wanted to do!&lt;br /&gt;..all that time i was fighting goosebumps on my arms and on my back, my stomach was tying itself up in knots, not even houdini would get out of this one alive.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;and there it went.&lt;br /&gt;everything that we kinda, even if subconsciously, built up all evening was gone in one word.&lt;br /&gt;"fine."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;she turns away from me, lying on her right side, facing away.&lt;br /&gt;id give her whatever she wanted just to know what she was thinking about at that moment!&lt;br /&gt;she'll simply tell me she doesnt know any more, i know that by now.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;and me?&lt;br /&gt;i put my hand on her hipbone, too chicken to pull her face towards me and kiss her.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6558720620340990791-1453895045161153132?l=unexpected-positions.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://unexpected-positions.blogspot.com/feeds/1453895045161153132/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6558720620340990791&amp;postID=1453895045161153132' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6558720620340990791/posts/default/1453895045161153132'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6558720620340990791/posts/default/1453895045161153132'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://unexpected-positions.blogspot.com/2008/05/and-what-did-i-do_03.html' title='and what did i do?'/><author><name>Remi</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01666480041111911093</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6558720620340990791.post-6682937450032471245</id><published>2008-03-15T20:07:00.000Z</published><updated>2008-03-15T20:10:15.579Z</updated><title type='text'>Santa Bandana (Vol.1)</title><content type='html'>ive met you for the first time only a few hours ago.&lt;br /&gt;yet, it feels like we've known each other for way longer.&lt;br /&gt;no, im not trying to be romantic, just telling you how it feels.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;dont know if youve noticed, but we've been sitting here for a long time.&lt;br /&gt;its gotten dark already. not many people around here.&lt;br /&gt;the cold concrete wall behind my back doesnt bother me.&lt;br /&gt;your jacket? no, i dont need it, thanks.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;our eye contact has been getting longer, too.&lt;br /&gt;is it intentional? its weird, tho, isnt it?&lt;br /&gt;for the very least, it is unexpected.&lt;br /&gt;we've only chatted a few times before todays meeting,&lt;br /&gt;a few distant msgs to someone unknown.&lt;br /&gt;and yet, here i am, toying with the idea of kissing you.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;and i know youre toying with me!&lt;br /&gt;of course you knew id love this place, im a sucker for sea.&lt;br /&gt;you had me going from the first minute; dressed in all white, &lt;br /&gt;with your dark skin and a hat to hide your eyes.&lt;br /&gt;why hide them? im not trying to look into your soul.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;dont understand why we're talking about world politics,&lt;br /&gt;who cares? you seriously do? i doubt it.&lt;br /&gt;why dont you touch my hand? it is right next to your left thigh.&lt;br /&gt;what are you waiting for? youre confusing me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;finally i stand up, youve made me nervous.&lt;br /&gt;youve made me question some of my moves.&lt;br /&gt;you sit onto the wall, spread your legs and pull me to yourself.&lt;br /&gt;okey, now we're getting somewhere.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;your lips are soft, you seem nervous, too.&lt;br /&gt;at least you did for first 10 seconds.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6558720620340990791-6682937450032471245?l=unexpected-positions.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://unexpected-positions.blogspot.com/feeds/6682937450032471245/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6558720620340990791&amp;postID=6682937450032471245' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6558720620340990791/posts/default/6682937450032471245'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6558720620340990791/posts/default/6682937450032471245'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://unexpected-positions.blogspot.com/2008/03/santa-bandana-vol1.html' title='Santa Bandana (Vol.1)'/><author><name>Remi</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01666480041111911093</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6558720620340990791.post-968950969029293790</id><published>2008-03-15T10:01:00.000Z</published><updated>2009-01-19T10:02:17.249Z</updated><title type='text'>Santa bandana (pt. 1)</title><content type='html'>ive met you for the first time only a few hours ago.&lt;br /&gt;yet, it feels like we've known each other for way longer.&lt;br /&gt;no, im not trying to be romantic, just telling you how it feels.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;dont know if youve noticed, but we've been sitting here for a long time.&lt;br /&gt;its gotten dark already. not many people around here.&lt;br /&gt;the cold concrete wall behind my back doesnt bother me.&lt;br /&gt;your jacket? no, i dont need it, thanks.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;our eye contact has been getting longer, too.&lt;br /&gt;is it intentional? its weird, tho, isnt it?&lt;br /&gt;for the very least, it is unexpected.&lt;br /&gt;we've only chatted a few times before todays meeting,&lt;br /&gt;a few distant msgs to someone unknown.&lt;br /&gt;and yet, here i am, toying with the idea of kissing you.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;and i know youre toying with me!&lt;br /&gt;of course you knew id love this place, im a sucker for sea.&lt;br /&gt;you had me going from the first minute; dressed in all white,&lt;br /&gt;with your dark skin and a hat to hide your eyes.&lt;br /&gt;why hide them? im not trying to look into your soul.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;dont understand why we're talking about world politics,&lt;br /&gt;who cares? you seriously do? i doubt it.&lt;br /&gt;why dont you touch my hand? it is right next to your left thigh.&lt;br /&gt;what are you waiting for? youre confusing me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;finally i stand up, youve made me nervous.&lt;br /&gt;youve made me question some of my moves.&lt;br /&gt;you sit onto the wall, spread your legs and pull me to yourself.&lt;br /&gt;okey, now we're getting somewhere.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;your lips are soft, you seem nervous, too.&lt;br /&gt;at least you did for first 10 seconds.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6558720620340990791-968950969029293790?l=unexpected-positions.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://unexpected-positions.blogspot.com/feeds/968950969029293790/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6558720620340990791&amp;postID=968950969029293790' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6558720620340990791/posts/default/968950969029293790'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6558720620340990791/posts/default/968950969029293790'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://unexpected-positions.blogspot.com/2008/03/santa-bandana-pt-1.html' title='Santa bandana (pt. 1)'/><author><name>Remi</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01666480041111911093</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6558720620340990791.post-8646191293775412645</id><published>2008-02-25T21:40:00.000Z</published><updated>2008-02-25T21:42:16.924Z</updated><title type='text'>untitled</title><content type='html'>1:37:18&lt;br /&gt;I was sleeping, probably dreaming about environmental issues in Latin America, surfing championship in Peru, migrations from Poland, carneval in Rio, shopping in Paris, $ vs. €, abortion issue in Malta, potential of communism, or simply about getting laid.&lt;br /&gt;That is also why the first touch on the back of my neck did not feel so bad anyway. &lt;br /&gt;With the preciseness of a nuclear-biology expert, the second touch followed.&lt;br /&gt;I slowly woke up. It is Mrs.Her, coming on to me, again. It feels...good. A feeling forgotten, somehow new.&lt;br /&gt;With the strength of a junkie's shot coming into their veins, the bite follows.&lt;br /&gt;Why my arm? Ah, okay, you changed your mind.&lt;br /&gt;But, why do you smell like that? Is that beer? How much beer is that?&lt;br /&gt;And why now, after all this time? Do you think you can just hop into my bed, hold me like a hostage, fuck me with your breath on my neck?!&lt;br /&gt;I guess you can.&lt;br /&gt;But all this beer, and your breathing, it's too fast. Why so different?&lt;br /&gt;Nevermind, don't stop.Yes, you can go there. And for the last time, it won't hurt like that night!&lt;br /&gt;Can I move? Or is my part here just to be still and wet?!&lt;br /&gt;Can you touch the right part of my belly again? The right one. And again...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1:37:41&lt;br /&gt;Mr.He, what are you doing in my bed?!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6558720620340990791-8646191293775412645?l=unexpected-positions.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://unexpected-positions.blogspot.com/feeds/8646191293775412645/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6558720620340990791&amp;postID=8646191293775412645' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6558720620340990791/posts/default/8646191293775412645'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6558720620340990791/posts/default/8646191293775412645'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://unexpected-positions.blogspot.com/2008/02/untitled.html' title='untitled'/><author><name>Remi</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01666480041111911093</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6558720620340990791.post-2241080090139555653</id><published>2008-02-07T11:20:00.000Z</published><updated>2008-02-07T11:22:22.964Z</updated><title type='text'>In her words and to my surprise...</title><content type='html'>I don't remember much of last friday. Maybe better that way. But she remembers some parts. Maybe would be better if she didn't?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i have no idea how we got through the door, who even opened it?!&lt;br /&gt;my memory begins with us in a room, almost leaning over the bed,&lt;br /&gt;trying to remain on our feet.&lt;br /&gt;i know i took off my jacket and shoes.&lt;br /&gt;all of asudden you are behind me, my tshirt and bra on the floor, and&lt;br /&gt;i think i remember feeling your skin on my back. maybe i was only&lt;br /&gt;wishing it.&lt;br /&gt;your hands are on my breats.&lt;br /&gt;next thing i remember we are lying on the bed, you on top of me. i can&lt;br /&gt;feel your hand between my legs. (when did you undo my pants?)&lt;br /&gt;then i feel your teeth on my neck. i remember pushing you away, my&lt;br /&gt;hand on your chin. almost violently.&lt;br /&gt;i need you to stop.&lt;br /&gt;stop.&lt;br /&gt;stop!&lt;br /&gt;pushing you away with one hand, with the other pulling hair off your&lt;br /&gt;face. i want your lips.&lt;br /&gt;i feel sick. like, really.&lt;br /&gt;slowly giving in, i lower my hand down your stomach, your hips.. and&lt;br /&gt;feeling your hair on my fingers. youre so wet.&lt;br /&gt;(did you even notice?)&lt;br /&gt;with every thrust of your body against mine i lose myself a little.&lt;br /&gt;ai, and there you go again, moaning into my ear. your breath is so warm.&lt;br /&gt;(stop biting me!)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;room starts spinning, my body starts shivering, i feel cold.&lt;br /&gt;you take my hand and lead me to your bed.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;with my arm around you and my right little finger touching your left&lt;br /&gt;nipple, i pass out.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6558720620340990791-2241080090139555653?l=unexpected-positions.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://unexpected-positions.blogspot.com/feeds/2241080090139555653/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6558720620340990791&amp;postID=2241080090139555653' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6558720620340990791/posts/default/2241080090139555653'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6558720620340990791/posts/default/2241080090139555653'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://unexpected-positions.blogspot.com/2008/02/in-her-words-and-to-my-surprise.html' title='In her words and to my surprise...'/><author><name>Remi</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01666480041111911093</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6558720620340990791.post-1482596851547522943</id><published>2008-01-29T17:46:00.000Z</published><updated>2008-01-29T20:03:04.451Z</updated><title type='text'>Tell you something</title><content type='html'>&lt;object width="425" height="355"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/Ed6PzIVjo7E&amp;rel=1"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="wmode" value="transparent"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/Ed6PzIVjo7E&amp;rel=1" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" wmode="transparent" width="425" height="355"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This blog has been going into direction that is far from being realistic. Well, it's all true. But...well...ah. Why does everybody think that i'm f****** everybody else? I don't mind or care about what the everybody and the everybody else think, but it's just not true. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Having an extraordinary tendency to get myself into trouble, it all seems like some crazy life. Which is not. It's what happens to you, and you, and yes, you as well. Or at least it will. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The thing is just that it all happened at the same time to me. Some kind of an overload, or an OD. Thank god i stopped at the right moment, before I could regret so much, all the so called experience and fun and whatever that I didn't do, eventhough I appearently seem to have done. The things I never said, but I should have, the opportunities I missed, the opportunities I made and then bailed on them and made other people bail, the words that said to little, the smiles that showed too much, the things i did to you, the things i didn'd let you do to me, the things i made you believe...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Just a girl, trying to handle new things, new emotions, new positions. All of them very unexpected.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6558720620340990791-1482596851547522943?l=unexpected-positions.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://unexpected-positions.blogspot.com/feeds/1482596851547522943/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6558720620340990791&amp;postID=1482596851547522943' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6558720620340990791/posts/default/1482596851547522943'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6558720620340990791/posts/default/1482596851547522943'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://unexpected-positions.blogspot.com/2008/01/tell-you-something.html' title='Tell you something'/><author><name>Remi</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01666480041111911093</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6558720620340990791.post-7925415533323091298</id><published>2008-01-23T01:01:00.001Z</published><updated>2008-01-23T01:02:56.089Z</updated><title type='text'>Love is in the air</title><content type='html'>Can somebody please do something about it?!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6558720620340990791-7925415533323091298?l=unexpected-positions.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://unexpected-positions.blogspot.com/feeds/7925415533323091298/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6558720620340990791&amp;postID=7925415533323091298' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6558720620340990791/posts/default/7925415533323091298'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6558720620340990791/posts/default/7925415533323091298'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://unexpected-positions.blogspot.com/2008/01/love-is-in-air.html' title='Love is in the air'/><author><name>Remi</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01666480041111911093</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6558720620340990791.post-5896647774186639162</id><published>2008-01-22T03:49:00.001Z</published><updated>2008-01-22T03:49:47.593Z</updated><title type='text'>4th</title><content type='html'>...start with 1st...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6558720620340990791-5896647774186639162?l=unexpected-positions.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://unexpected-positions.blogspot.com/feeds/5896647774186639162/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6558720620340990791&amp;postID=5896647774186639162' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6558720620340990791/posts/default/5896647774186639162'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6558720620340990791/posts/default/5896647774186639162'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://unexpected-positions.blogspot.com/2008/01/4th.html' title='4th'/><author><name>Remi</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01666480041111911093</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6558720620340990791.post-2700218795938187111</id><published>2008-01-22T03:48:00.000Z</published><updated>2008-01-22T03:49:32.614Z</updated><title type='text'>3rd</title><content type='html'>...and you move, and open your mouth in a sexy way,&lt;br /&gt;and my breath melts with your breath,&lt;br /&gt;my body is your body,&lt;br /&gt;and my pleasure is your pleasure,&lt;br /&gt;and...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6558720620340990791-2700218795938187111?l=unexpected-positions.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://unexpected-positions.blogspot.com/feeds/2700218795938187111/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6558720620340990791&amp;postID=2700218795938187111' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6558720620340990791/posts/default/2700218795938187111'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6558720620340990791/posts/default/2700218795938187111'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://unexpected-positions.blogspot.com/2008/01/3rd.html' title='3rd'/><author><name>Remi</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01666480041111911093</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6558720620340990791.post-827557365115247110</id><published>2008-01-22T03:43:00.000Z</published><updated>2008-01-22T03:52:05.399Z</updated><title type='text'>2nd</title><content type='html'>...let's continue and slowly put my legs between your legs, kiss you and let you feel my body on top of yours.&lt;br /&gt;move.&lt;br /&gt;let you feel a bit more.&lt;br /&gt;you still have your clothes on.&lt;br /&gt;and i'm just...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;...fucking you.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6558720620340990791-827557365115247110?l=unexpected-positions.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://unexpected-positions.blogspot.com/feeds/827557365115247110/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6558720620340990791&amp;postID=827557365115247110' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6558720620340990791/posts/default/827557365115247110'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6558720620340990791/posts/default/827557365115247110'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://unexpected-positions.blogspot.com/2008/01/2nd.html' title='2nd'/><author><name>Remi</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01666480041111911093</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6558720620340990791.post-7295367682012070217</id><published>2008-01-22T03:39:00.000Z</published><updated>2008-01-22T03:41:41.960Z</updated><title type='text'>1st</title><content type='html'>...going behind you now, kiss the back of your neck, touch you, having my hands all over you, kiss your ears and go down, keep touching, move and be in front of you, look you in the eyes and just...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;...go down.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6558720620340990791-7295367682012070217?l=unexpected-positions.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://unexpected-positions.blogspot.com/feeds/7295367682012070217/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6558720620340990791&amp;postID=7295367682012070217' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6558720620340990791/posts/default/7295367682012070217'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6558720620340990791/posts/default/7295367682012070217'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://unexpected-positions.blogspot.com/2008/01/1st.html' title='1st'/><author><name>Remi</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01666480041111911093</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6558720620340990791.post-5207822244502735399</id><published>2008-01-21T02:00:00.000Z</published><updated>2008-01-21T02:01:38.745Z</updated><title type='text'>I'd...</title><content type='html'>...dance around you like a satellite...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;object width="425" height="355"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/ulusQ8EVPDg&amp;rel=1"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="wmode" value="transparent"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/ulusQ8EVPDg&amp;rel=1" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" wmode="transparent" width="425" height="355"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6558720620340990791-5207822244502735399?l=unexpected-positions.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://unexpected-positions.blogspot.com/feeds/5207822244502735399/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6558720620340990791&amp;postID=5207822244502735399' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6558720620340990791/posts/default/5207822244502735399'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6558720620340990791/posts/default/5207822244502735399'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://unexpected-positions.blogspot.com/2008/01/id.html' title='I&apos;d...'/><author><name>Remi</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01666480041111911093</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6558720620340990791.post-2483440855781407066</id><published>2008-01-16T04:16:00.001Z</published><updated>2008-01-16T10:05:20.050Z</updated><title type='text'>The red effect</title><content type='html'>It started as an easy going evening with friends. A few drinks, talking, music, and all that. What followed was a night of great music, beer and one friend making me a hacky just for the fucking sake of it (she will so be ashamed of it tomorrow) and the other one convincing me that it's not wrong to have sex, even if his girlfriend is a friend of mine. Weird.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I will not go into details. Yes, I know you want me to, but, eh, it happened, it's over and I'm sick and tired of thinking about this stuff.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But don't worry, the chain of things happening to me is not over, and the details shall be revealed.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6558720620340990791-2483440855781407066?l=unexpected-positions.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://unexpected-positions.blogspot.com/feeds/2483440855781407066/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6558720620340990791&amp;postID=2483440855781407066' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6558720620340990791/posts/default/2483440855781407066'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6558720620340990791/posts/default/2483440855781407066'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://unexpected-positions.blogspot.com/2008/01/red-effect.html' title='The red effect'/><author><name>Remi</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01666480041111911093</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6558720620340990791.post-5048836305617618674</id><published>2008-01-09T12:29:00.000Z</published><updated>2008-01-09T12:31:25.050Z</updated><title type='text'>Makes me</title><content type='html'>I want to dive into you&lt;br /&gt;Forget what you're going through&lt;br /&gt;I get behind, make your move&lt;br /&gt;Forget about the truth&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;:)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;from: Maroon 5, Makes me wonder&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6558720620340990791-5048836305617618674?l=unexpected-positions.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://unexpected-positions.blogspot.com/feeds/5048836305617618674/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6558720620340990791&amp;postID=5048836305617618674' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6558720620340990791/posts/default/5048836305617618674'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6558720620340990791/posts/default/5048836305617618674'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://unexpected-positions.blogspot.com/2008/01/makes-me.html' title='Makes me'/><author><name>Remi</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01666480041111911093</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6558720620340990791.post-4706870183073259005</id><published>2008-01-09T11:41:00.001Z</published><updated>2008-01-09T12:29:16.985Z</updated><title type='text'>Wrong direction moves</title><content type='html'>There is another one. The sweetest person in the world. I love her to death. She knows me, my every  loook, expression, every thought and every move. She's there where all the world disappoints, when I don't know what to do, when my ego fails to lead. She wants the best for me. I can tell her anything and she'll understand.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;At least I thought so.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Why is she now making her inner feeling of safety more important than my happiness? All the things I told her, it was because she understands and she doesn't judge and she unselfishly accepts who I am.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;At least I thought so.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now I am making her suffer by being me. She thinks it's wrong and sick. I guess that doesn't matter. Once a supposably smart girl told me that in the end you are the one that matters. The others leave or simply die.  Now gonna make a move from worried to right.:)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6558720620340990791-4706870183073259005?l=unexpected-positions.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://unexpected-positions.blogspot.com/feeds/4706870183073259005/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6558720620340990791&amp;postID=4706870183073259005' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6558720620340990791/posts/default/4706870183073259005'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6558720620340990791/posts/default/4706870183073259005'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://unexpected-positions.blogspot.com/2008/01/wrong-direction-moves.html' title='Wrong direction moves'/><author><name>Remi</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01666480041111911093</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6558720620340990791.post-1222823882120491315</id><published>2008-01-09T00:48:00.001Z</published><updated>2008-01-09T00:48:33.400Z</updated><title type='text'>Move her all</title><content type='html'>How i know she wants it now. She wants to strip me, move me to the wall, not caring if it hurts, fuck, she'd like it even more. How she'd then let me not let her move. And how I'd then do it all. And more than all.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6558720620340990791-1222823882120491315?l=unexpected-positions.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://unexpected-positions.blogspot.com/feeds/1222823882120491315/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6558720620340990791&amp;postID=1222823882120491315' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6558720620340990791/posts/default/1222823882120491315'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6558720620340990791/posts/default/1222823882120491315'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://unexpected-positions.blogspot.com/2008/01/move-her-all.html' title='Move her all'/><author><name>Remi</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01666480041111911093</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6558720620340990791.post-1569291218558839958</id><published>2008-01-08T16:31:00.000Z</published><updated>2008-01-08T16:58:49.561Z</updated><title type='text'>Papi's moves</title><content type='html'>There is this girl. Fuck, there are billions of them, but I want to talk about a specific one.&lt;br /&gt;She's a player. No matter the fact that she's seriously involved with someone. She has this wicked and nasty mind. I bet that even in her sleep she dreams of what she would do to someone or have done to her by a certain actress, singer or whoever she finds sexy. She has this cool style, kind of easy going, relaxed manner of speaking and behaving. She speaks english better than her mothertongue. She's an eyebrows-pulling freak, even if she doesn't know that. She unintentionally gives an impression of being a real Papi styler. I guess her history has something to do with it. Respect. Especially since what the word-of-mouth brought to me about her capabilities. She is praised in the world of sex. I'm sure that one day she'll have her own wax figure in the Madame Tussauds museum. And she's very much into me.&lt;br /&gt;She wakes up and starts making up silly excuses just to talk to me. She basically wants me. My body, to be precise. I'm telling you, people, this girl is crazy. I don't get to see her much. I guess it's better this way.And I must say I am a bit curious about what the hell it is that she does to people to make them smile in a nasty whenever the topic comes up. Superpowers? Pure guesses? Talent? Practice? The sum of the stated? Should I make an empirical research?&lt;br /&gt;Heh, you must be wondering if I would let my body to this international sex muse. Well, she is full of shit. And a chicken. She starts with all this crap, but I am so sure that if she was in the position to do something, she would run from the harmless creature like me.&lt;br /&gt;She's a chicken.&lt;br /&gt;But also a teaser.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And a fucking good one.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6558720620340990791-1569291218558839958?l=unexpected-positions.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://unexpected-positions.blogspot.com/feeds/1569291218558839958/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6558720620340990791&amp;postID=1569291218558839958' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6558720620340990791/posts/default/1569291218558839958'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6558720620340990791/posts/default/1569291218558839958'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://unexpected-positions.blogspot.com/2008/01/papis-moves.html' title='Papi&apos;s moves'/><author><name>Remi</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01666480041111911093</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6558720620340990791.post-6110595022485655405</id><published>2008-01-07T14:28:00.000Z</published><updated>2008-01-07T14:29:53.951Z</updated><title type='text'>Move on her by her</title><content type='html'>I met a girl some months ago. She's my friends' friend, which somehow made her my friend and me her friend. Ah, as long as we're all friends.&lt;br /&gt;Basically, the girl has been hitting on me since day one. I never cared. Of course not, I was all uh ah oh in love with my babe (burni in hell you bitch for dumping me grrrrJ). Now that I'm single and free as a bird, I'm getting kind of…bored. And so I start getting ideas. On saturday I went out. With some friends. The girl was also there. All crazy. I've never seen her like that. The shy girl with dark eyes was suddenly gone. Instead, there was this sexy creature, seducing me from head to toes, doing a lap dance and biting me softly. Obviously something had to happen. It would be totally mean of me, if I let the evening end without an appropriate award for the lady.:) After kissing her in the club we went home. For, khm, coffee. Out of nowhere we started kissing again. And she lifted me. I knew she was strong, but I had no idea she knew how to transform the strenght into pure passion. And i refused to give her control over situation. She opened her eyes, looked at me deadly seriously and suddenly I was under her. Her lips were so soft, her touch was like a feather…but I couldn't move. I started going crazy, I bit her, she bit me more, I moved, she moved me more. And then she left.&lt;br /&gt;Good thing they always come back…;)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6558720620340990791-6110595022485655405?l=unexpected-positions.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://unexpected-positions.blogspot.com/feeds/6110595022485655405/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6558720620340990791&amp;postID=6110595022485655405' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6558720620340990791/posts/default/6110595022485655405'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6558720620340990791/posts/default/6110595022485655405'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://unexpected-positions.blogspot.com/2008/01/move-on-her-by-her.html' title='Move on her by her'/><author><name>Remi</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01666480041111911093</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6558720620340990791.post-6138374786875623311</id><published>2008-01-07T14:27:00.000Z</published><updated>2008-01-07T14:28:34.798Z</updated><title type='text'>Moving on</title><content type='html'>I don't like people that much. More precisely, I reaaalllyyy don't like people. I get bored with them, most of them are on the virge of being retarded, they tend to behave like sheep and talk too much. Still, I don't to be able to be alone. I am in constant search of company, even if it's just for a coffee. I promised myself once (well, i didn't really promise, because I knew it wouldn't work anyway) that I will never use people, especially not my friends.&lt;br /&gt;Well, fuck, I am doing it again. I just got out of a relationship that was the best thing that ever started and the worst thing that ever ended. But I guess that's life. Anyway, now I'm dealing with it, again, like a real Alice…messing around with people. For the past month it has been all about getting laid and kissing. My friends says I'm »emotionally unavailable« and that's why I don't go beyind physical. Ah, give me a break and stop with the Oprah feat. Dr.Phil crap.&lt;br /&gt;Still, I got lucky. Or not. Hm. I met two really nice people. Both intelligent (hehe, one more than the other), good looking and all the stuff a typical match-making-agencly applicant would describe in their praised demands. So here I am, having a great time with both, separately of course, and at the same time living with my ex. Hehe, you might think it's crazy, but I just find it brave.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6558720620340990791-6138374786875623311?l=unexpected-positions.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://unexpected-positions.blogspot.com/feeds/6138374786875623311/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6558720620340990791&amp;postID=6138374786875623311' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6558720620340990791/posts/default/6138374786875623311'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6558720620340990791/posts/default/6138374786875623311'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://unexpected-positions.blogspot.com/2008/01/moving-on.html' title='Moving on'/><author><name>Remi</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01666480041111911093</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry></feed>
