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blustocking[written at 2am]
It’s that time of year again….time for the toilet seat to give you a cold-shock cringe.
New York quilted autumnal streamers, spider journal-lined pages, it’s all too much.
There’s too much of a beautiful chill in the air to masturbate naked, so you do it fully-clothed. Not even wanting to. Feeling like you should. Just to…what? Pass the time. Relax. Take the pressure off being alone, to stop yourself from going out and finding a one-night stand. I don’t even want a boyfriend, not now, or again, for awhile. But a warm body would be nice. Hands are cold, but the friction soon warms the right. You find the spot, lick your fingers, and dive in, ready for battle. Your mind goes PFFFT (as it is now), and you close your eyes, squint, concentrate on trying not to concentrate. Images, issues, ANYTHING floods in and sends your climax rattling back down the hill, back to its room. REPENT! The easiest way is to think of no one. Think of nothing but just getting off, the functionality of the act, to be “in the moment”. Otherwise, something could ruin it. Weird phrases pop into your head (like spider-journal), your hand moves faster. (Now why did I think of “spider-journal.”) The wetness is wearing off. (Why am I thinking about this? Just come already.) Such a flood of trivial nature, eloquent and mystifying phrases, images and connections, never to be recorded. Lost and fractured, never to gain full strength…unless someday they make a thought recorder. And what a scary day it would be. On that day, I will take my life, to spare the masses. And then, and then, and th....ye....oh...god.... .... ...And you sigh, because it was only the half-strength, over-the-counter dosage. But that’s okay, because your little friend Inexplicable Guilt is there to touch your brain, if only for a moment. You dirty, dirty bird.
It doesn’t take me long, but it feels like forever.
Frustration is the current soup du jour.
It’s that time of year again….time for the toilet seat to give you a cold-shock cringe.
New York quilted autumnal streamers, spider journal-lined pages, it’s all too much.
There’s too much of a beautiful chill in the air to masturbate naked, so you do it fully-clothed. Not even wanting to. Feeling like you should. Just to…what? Pass the time. Relax. Take the pressure off being alone, to stop yourself from going out and finding a one-night stand. I don’t even want a boyfriend, not now, or again, for awhile. But a warm body would be nice. Hands are cold, but the friction soon warms the right. You find the spot, lick your fingers, and dive in, ready for battle. Your mind goes PFFFT (as it is now), and you close your eyes, squint, concentrate on trying not to concentrate. Images, issues, ANYTHING floods in and sends your climax rattling back down the hill, back to its room. REPENT! The easiest way is to think of no one. Think of nothing but just getting off, the functionality of the act, to be “in the moment”. Otherwise, something could ruin it. Weird phrases pop into your head (like spider-journal), your hand moves faster. (Now why did I think of “spider-journal.”) The wetness is wearing off. (Why am I thinking about this? Just come already.) Such a flood of trivial nature, eloquent and mystifying phrases, images and connections, never to be recorded. Lost and fractured, never to gain full strength…unless someday they make a thought recorder. And what a scary day it would be. On that day, I will take my life, to spare the masses. And then, and then, and th....ye....oh...god.... .... ...And you sigh, because it was only the half-strength, over-the-counter dosage. But that’s okay, because your little friend Inexplicable Guilt is there to touch your brain, if only for a moment. You dirty, dirty bird.
It doesn’t take me long, but it feels like forever.
Frustration is the current soup du jour.
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no subject
Date: 2004-10-03 04:29 pm (UTC)frustration is been my soup do jour lately as well. in many ways.
no subject
Date: 2004-10-03 04:37 pm (UTC)Ohhhhh Chuck, that signing opened my eyes.
no subject
Date: 2004-10-03 05:00 pm (UTC)p.s. i miss j00. but you know that already.
no subject
Date: 2004-10-03 05:43 pm (UTC)Kidding.
p.s. I miss jews too. :}
no subject
Date: 2004-10-03 05:04 pm (UTC)ha cha cha
Date: 2004-10-03 05:41 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2004-10-03 05:36 pm (UTC)Still, I like to pet the kitty with my blankie over my head/eyes. There's something about being in total darkness that helps me keep my mind blank so I'm forced to concentrate on touch/sensation alone.
Really, I do hate it when thoughts start to enter my head while I'm masturbating. Usually it’s the 'did I leave the coffee pot on' or 'did I pay that bill on time' thought of randomness. If that occurs, I end up clicking the mouse for over 45 minutes. That's why it's better for me to think of NOTHING at all and get off less than 5 seconds instead. ;)
no subject
Date: 2004-10-03 05:39 pm (UTC)"That's why it's better for me to think of NOTHING at all and get off less than 5 seconds instead." Damn straight. Sometimes I'll watch porn, but I usually end up ignoring it anyway. It's the lazy way.
I should try covering my head. Hell, I'll just blindfold myself...even better.
no subject
Date: 2004-10-03 06:58 pm (UTC)Talk about little girl smut. Heh try jerkin' the gherkin in that getup. I feel like I should have my webcam tuned on for such events.
no subject
Date: 2004-10-04 07:51 pm (UTC)And apparently I'm a pervy young male.