What’s so special, unique about one man and his tattooed arm?…a girl in pink panties lying on our bedroom floor telling us her life story in deadl... detail? not much. when i think about love, how people do it, give it and lose it, i am amazed at my insight. not just into the topic, but insight into myself. i am cold, even deep down. for whatever reason, i am so abrasive and nonchalant when it comes to expressing my emotions to another person. passion, art, fucking, fighting…all of those things i. When I hit the light switch, I saw the same man I saw the day before.I saw the shock in his face that I was feeling. His arm moved as mine did.I smiled, so did he. I was that man. But how? Why? Thoughts raced throughmy head. One of my professors had told me once that you can't live otherpeople's lives to fix them, but perhaps now I would have to rethink thatlogic.No matter what, I was a man, and standing there I realized that I had totake a piss something fierce. I side stepped over to the. More

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