Loving and Living - Both Extremely Hazardous

I'm back from Georgia. But guessing from the big ass question mark on your forehead, you had absolutely no idea I was gone in the first place. That's fine. I've been missing for a while either way. I had a promotional photoshoot at this fancy hotel called (appropriately) Château Élan Winery & Resort. It's very pretty, without a doubt.



It looks exactly like that when you're there, I'm not kidding. It's beautiful and apparently a favorite spot for weddings. I managed to witness two myself though quite frankly it's so fucking cold there at times I don't know how they did it. Oh before you pull the plug and run away screaming in terror, I was dressed as a groom in a make-believe wedding for the photo purposes. Quite a change since I'm traditionally half naked during my shoots. It was cool. Considering I got to live something I otherwise wouldn't have.

I'm thinking of cutting my hair. I'm getting tired of the locks. And no, I'm not SHAVING all my hair off. I'm really not in the mood to follow that fad. Just a bit shorter, maybe clean cut or not. I'm in the mood to change. I need to validate myself through this change.

Funny that my twin and I have a shit load of stuff in common. Our insecurity, our need for skin. Wow, talk about oncoming memory traffic. I just think that we both need a lot of love, a lot of support, and a lot of touching. Dad told me to buy this book because it'll help me out. I'm not good at expressing love and Thierry and I speak abysmally (new word) different languages. We both express love in very different ways which is why we Stockers go through constant suffering. It's not our partners fault, though I love to think otherwise >/

Watching Deal or No Deal is distracting me. Along with my voracious appetite. I miss my twin. I miss my dad. I miss my Thierry.