Painted Faces

I might not have a boyfriend, but I have cupcakes, an those tasty bastards haven't let me down yet.

It feels like nobody in the history of the world has loved another person as much as I love you. I love you so much it hurts. You make me smile, you make me laugh, you make me burn.

I want to ruin you Freda, in the best way possible.

We all paint on a face to show the world," Nicholas replies philosophically. "For some of us, that's quite literal.

Every memory makes me who I am right now, in this moment. Good or bad, all experiences shape you.

You've got a wonderful way with words, disgusting but wonderful.

I belong to you. I've belonged to you since the beginning, since before I even knew that I did," he rambles. "I'll never hurt you again. I'd rather die than to hurt you

You'll always be my friend, won't you Fred? Don't let me fuck this up. I need you in my life now. I need the golden eyed girl who can make me smile.

I care about you more than I care about myself, Fred.

I like the him that's underneath the clothes and the painted face.

No need to worry. The closest I've ever come to an STD was a kidney infection. I always put a raincoat on the little fella before heading into a storm.

It's sad to think how humanity has been reduced to being more comfortable communing through the medium of a keyboard, rather than having a real life conversation.

I love him because he makes me laugh when I don't feel like laughing. I love him because he challenges my view of what a man is. I love him because I know I shouldn't love him and that he'll break my heart. I love him because he's a complete and total anomaly. I love him because I want to kill the sadness inside him more than I want anything else in the world.

You have sex on the brain twenty-four seven Viv. I think you might need therapy." "Perhaps I do. Don't get me wrong I'm no Russell Brand, but I do have quite an avid interest in shagging.

Sometimes we're cruellest to the ones we care about the most.

Bullies didn't care about the truth, they just wanted an easy target.

The female need for true love is a fickle bitch. It forces itself into your life and shapes your actions, always driving you to find that one guy who'll love you unconditionally.

Nicholas is gay, isn't he," she says, her voice dripping with dejection. I shrug, again remembering his proposition from last night. "Not necessarily. The jury's still out. There's hope for a Christmas wedding yet," I tell her.

In the world that exists inside my own head I am the perfect woman.

You're a bit of an odd duck aren't you Freda,' she says, her glasses hanging too low on her nose. 'Quack,' I reply.

Okay, this is messed up. I’m getting all hot and bothered over a man who’s more comfortable in make-up and a pair of heels that I am.

Well, how do I look?” he asks, turning his made up face from side to side. He looks like a really hot woman. It’s unsettling, but also titillating. “If I was into girls, I’d do you,” I tell him honestly. He leans forward conspiratorially. “Psst, I’ll let you in on a secret Fred,” he glances sheepishly from side to side. “I actually have a cock. Don’t tell anyone, it would ruin my reputation. But feel free to do me any time you want.

You saw me, changed my life, made it better, and I’m completely fucking in love with you.

This is astounding, amazing, so incredibly thrilling. Only today a world travelling cabaret performing drag queen took me out for lunch and named me as his new best friend. The idea plunges my black and white world into a vibrant techni-colour rainbow.

Who would have thought that a drag queen could be my ultimate male fantasy?

If I had to pick two words to describe Edinburgh, I would tell you that it's majestic and beautiful. Really, really old, but somehow more alive than any other place I've ever been.

She doesn't understand why I'd want to go by the name of some middle aged van driver when I could go by a pretty name like Freda. I told her I like to be economical with syllables.

If Edward Cullen had of been ugly I'm sure Bella Swan wouldn't have been quite so smitten with him coming into her bedroom to watch her sleep at night. We females can be strange, shallow creatures when the mood takes us.

I'm thinking he might be a sex pest.