I remember the days years ago when I knew everything and how the people around me were crazy for doing the things they did and saying the things they did. I lived high on a mountain of cheese sprinkled with cracker dust; wine bottles everywhere throughout. The fresh stench of sex permeated the air and ashtrays filled to the brim with half smoked cigarettes were always on every flat or semi-flat surface. Every night we had the worlds problems solved and every night there was a different suspect.
They were always anonyous and alone. Not desperate, just really angered by something that has happened recently in their lives. They were always honest about their names; which I guess made them feel better as guys will easily use other names which may have made them feel better about their going outside the line for some extra spankage. Suspects they are, still, these wonderful people are the most human of all humans. They see a need and fulfill that need for real, reaping the rewards of anonymous and hardcore sexual practices with total and complete strangers (consenting adults). The rewards come in secret boxes wrapped with electric bows and cards that flash neon memories of yourself and one other in dirty and secret bliss. LLc
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
-
Hate fizzles away into the great big nothing. Love always grows into a great big something... and love lasts forever and ever.
-
Planetary forces that align against the spirit are indeed the spirits of disgruntled souls. They have places to go as the doors to the unive...
-
One of the most endearing qualities we humans possess is our inate ability to actually believe our own bullshit. We can talk our way through...
-
There are small moments in our time that reveal the future in specific ways. Those who pay attention to the trajectory of things can see exa...
-
I used to think weird people were attention getter's and nothing more. Then again, it is only newsworthy if it is different. However, ...
-
Conversations from within are filled with sin. The lines we cross are many and the ideas that shine are sometimes unworthy of experience. Ot...
-
The climb is not a climb at all. It is a process of learning that never comes to a close. Becomming whole, a man cannot stand being without ...
-
There is mold on the windowsill and the wind outside has strengthened. The musty odor permeates the air like a woolen blanket keeps us safe ...
No comments:
Post a Comment