Ugh, here I am fucking writing again. Stuck in my head. As always.
I want to be in my body, rolling around in orgasms and soaking wet sheets.
But no one is up to the task. No one can get it up and keep it up as long as I need them to.
And my desire for it only seems to turn them off even more.
I see sex as a portal… a time travel machine… a vehicle for escaping out of this mundane, miserable existence into some kind of eternal paradise.
My friend once said – you can’t stay in heaven too long or it would cease to be heaven. But I’m ready to find a way around that.
Fuck this plane of existence. Fuck the pathetic pleas to some high and mighty God other than ourselves for just a little morsel of bliss.
Fuck a world where you have to sell your soul to fill your belly.
Fuck a world where our life-force energy languishes and withers in a dark corner, because we’ve been trained to keep it under wraps.
Fuck a society that says not to come on too strong or you’ll scare everyone away.
I want someone to come on “too strong” to me and show me what it means to live for one goddamn hour.
If men would just start acting like men again and fuck me like a woman, I wouldn’t have to be so aggressive. I wouldn’t have to chase them like an animal in heat.
Take me down and fuck me, goddamnit. Fuck me until I become feminine.
Fuck me until I cry, and then I’ll fuck you til you cry.
Then we’ll fuck each other til we melt into a pulsating electric puddle. Til we reach Nirvana.
Nothing else matters. It’s all meaningless.