things I hate about sex

I actually found it kind of surprising when this came to my attention.

1. never knowing how much of the collective sweat pooling everywhere is actually mine. I'd really like to know whether or not I'm getting a good work out...

2. how dehydrated I get and how I seemingly have to all of sudden pee every 30 minutes and put clothes on to make myself even more dehydrated. I need to start stocking my bed with water bottles and bananas.

3. not being able to cum because I watch way too much porn and are too busy trying to follow commands of screaming psycho nymphs.

4. my books and letters fall off the shelves infront of my bed and I have to organize them all over again 
 -_____- I think maybe I'm turning into the male-equivalent of a cat lady.

5. not being able to make porn.

6. not really having a chance to make witty comments since the only comments involve the words jesus, fuck, pussy, god, and dick. not really much to go off of there...

7. it is not acceptable to watch it's always sunny in philadelphia while recieving oral sex or hitting dat shit from da back.

8. I don't have a full body mirror to watch myself pose-balls deep-or admire how awesome I am. I think this one will soon be corrected, though.

yup.

ASTRO TURF

prairies laid around the abyss
warm, gentle slopes rise close to the ledge
leading down to a sun stained canyon, my lips plunge off the edge
crashing down smooth skin, falling upon a plateau
strong yet feminine in nature
a platform to sow our seeds

following the strings of a marionette master
exploring this architectural act, curves continue as peaks reveal
caramel areolas, a carousel
saltation tip to tongue

a bow is given and trails are followed
towards the retreat of an ocean, a paradoxical withdrawal
an exploration within two tastes
expiration has been displaced

one day we'll go back.

and carve our names;
let our existance be known.
This is our sanctuary,
Our home, our world.
It belongs to us.
Regardless of the ground from which it sprung,
In spite of the sun that reaches its shade.
Our love has encased Haven from rains that follow.
its creator-the earth.
Your submission under me conquered its terrain.
I’ve destroyed lips that warrant worship.
scarred knees, quaint as the clouds.
filled your body, to vanquish that thirst.
a thirst for slavery.
you are mine.
And this ours.

I come inside her, we lay on our bed of blankets and grass. the body heat dissipating and the cold creeping in. I hold her.
she looks into my begging eyes,
"there is this world,"
and my hand trails to the echoes of civilization,
"and then there is that world."
her eyes follow the direction, the words are picked up by a breeze of trangression.
"this is my domain. here, now, with you at my side. it is Being. but, see,
you belong to both places-and not simultaneously.I have been cast out from the simple act of exhaling. everything that has become you is rooted in that world. I cannot take you from which you grow. you will be left to stagnate and starve, with me as your witness. you've known this, always. though you act as if this polarity is of no importance-that our fractured meetings in time are sewn together, seamlessly."
her nose nestles into the valley of my chest. my hands are cold, and my heart fights to be nearer.

smokescreen opera

I love you, she said.
“I love you and don’t worry, you’ll be fine…I’ll be home soon enough, okay baby?”
She wraps her lips around me and looks up.
“okay. I love you too, it’s just that- I just wish I coulda came with you.”
I’m the only one coming, you idiot.
“mmmmhm-I know baby. I gotta go, baby-Clara needs me.”
I shoved my dick in her mouth in between those broken sentences. She said goodnight and hung up before he could reply, I pulled her head back and came onto her freckled cheek. She smiled.
“mmmmm baby, I love it when you come on my face. I love your taste.”
“hmmp.”
Fucking slut.
“Can we take a shower now?”
“Greg.”
“what?”
“I loooove youuuuu.”
“I love you too, now can we wash the sex off? I smell like straight up vagina.”
she giggles as the come drips off her chin.
“okay, baby.”
He drifted along her words for so long. He never wants to fall, but doesn’t even realize that’s what he’s been doing since she said yes. Michael didn’t make her feel wanted, but he gave her the security she craved-a feeling of control-the fact that she can create a relationship. A public performance for everyone to witness. An act that she can take a break from whenever she feels. He loves her and will never leave. Brittany told me he’s never even so much as kissed another girl before. He reminds me of myself from another time.

Kind of sad. I remember when we went to Corpus Christi and she told him that her mother was sick. He wanted to come with her, but she had said that it was best if she went alone. In reality her parents didn’t even stay there in the winter. We went down there and fucked in every possible nook and cranny. She lies to him so much, but doesn’t keep anything from me. I used to think it was because she wasn’t afraid to lose me. I’ve since come to believe that she knows that she never had me. He, on the other hand, has this beautiful story that’s told to him every night before he lays his head to rest-she loves him and wants to be with him forever-It puts his weary head at rest and puts a smile on his face. She so desperately wants that to make her happy. She wants to be passionate about something. Someone. She just can’t.
I hope I don’t end up like that. Passion is what fuels us to transcend the boundary we create for ourselves. These days it seems to be a scarce resource…

so here's your spectacular send off.

Hours, minutes, seconds. Every moment that passes by is not recognized.
I am stressed, weary, and confused. So unsure of everything I believe and trust.
It’s just so fucking hard to rely on anything these days-even my own convictions, it seems...
Fuck it. I’m getting out of here.
It’s bad when the door seems so much freer from the inside. Maybe I need help? No time. Got to leave.
I take my bag and walk past the sink, but something catches my attention. I backtrack and stare into my empty eyes, through the mirror and past the drywall. I’m alive. I think. I grab my notepad-shove it in my bag.

“This should be it.”

Everything seems ready-I know I am. Slip my shoes on and slide past the door. Instantly the winter breeze nips at my legs and fingertips. I don’t mind though; soon enough I’ll be in the passenger seat of a car, just trying to ignore the numbing sensation of my ass.
As I come to the bottom of the stairs, I notice Brittany waiting for me; her smile is warm and I can feel it on my face.

“You got everything; clothes, deodorant, toothbrush…condoms?”
“I got everything”
“you-”
“yeah, let’s just go.”

Corpus Christi. I’m pretty sure that’s where Selena was from...I hope the gulf is as beautiful as this bitch makes it out to be. I need a distraction.
I help Brittany put her things in the back of her Kia, while she blabbers on about how she wishes I would drive half the way. Fuck that. I’m already a liar, don’t want to add death to my conscience’s piling list of issues…

“Wanna stop to get somethin to eat?”
Drive, bitch.
“Well?”
“Nah, I’m good, babe. Can we just get a move on? I don’t wanna get there too late.”
“Well, I’m hungry. I’m just gonna stop at the shopette to get something and buy gas, okay?”

Sigh. The next time she masks her own desires for a concern I’m going to drive-right into a wall. I hate how you get to know some people and it just seems to be a burden.

We pull up and park. She leaves the keys in the ignition, to my surprise, and steps out into the clusterfuck. I wait impatiently, wondering what she’ll end up buying. Did she really believe I brought condoms? Let alone any other thing that would lead to her on top of me… I hope so.
I see her hair flicker in the sun as she exits out the shopette. She is a beautiful girl, but nothing more. She catches my stare and meets it with contentment.
Opening the door and throwing the bag into the back, she sits down and looks at me.

“I love you.”
I smile a fake smile and meet her half way.
“I love you too, baby. Now, can we GO NOW?”
“Mmmhm!”

About two hours in, my butt cheeks got to the point of predicted numbness.
I ignore her texts. I turn off my phone.
Fuck. This could be worse; she could be talking to me. That’s one thing I do appreciate about Brittany, no problem with silences.
As we kept passing the same monotonous scenery, I came to ponder out loud-big mistake.

“Could everything we live be a painting that is changing instantaneously?”
“…WWWHAT?”
“ Time, as we perceive it, could just be an illusion of what happens to only be one moment-where everything is and always has been. Maybe there is no real differentiation between me and the seat I appear to be sitting at in this very moment. “
“what ar-“
“And god-what if god is this moment? This moment that has no definite beginning or end. That everything we see, hear, know, want, touch, love, hate, deny, embrace is god.
Not a being. No deity, but this. “
“Uhhhhh-“
“God is a product of our observations and reactions to those observations. We may never know what fuels our reality because it is nothing but a part of ourselves-of an all encompassing, singular moment that we cannot look outside of. God is this epic poem of explanations, and excuses for the unknown, that we call life.”
“Wow, Greg. Where the hell did all that come from? I swear you have the most random fucking thoughts.”
She chuckles. I want to fucking hurt her so bad.
“Where’s my note…pad…”
“Well, where’d you put your bag, Einstein?”
“Will you shut the fuck UP?”
“What the fuck is your problem? I’m just playing with you; I swear sometimes you act really fucking weird.”

Silence. Finally.

Myyy-realityyy-is-yourrrsss-it's-just-changinggg-too-fassst-for-us-to-rrrealize.
There; all written down in the volumes of my yellow paper. Most of my thoughts are fleeting, I either have to write or draw if I want to hold onto them.

Brittany and I don’t exchange words for a while. Minutes pass us by; they disappear in the rearview mirror. After about an hour, I apologize for what I said. She didn’t say anything back, just kinda smirked and put her hand on mine. I felt better.

It took five and a half lifetimes to get to this fucking city. I can’t feel my legs-or my bladder. It seems I have aged 60 years in a matter of hours…hmmn. What a predicament. Brittany is stressing over the directions to her parent’s rental home. I’m just laying back, staring at the fluorescent lights. I can still remember what they look like from above-fucking beautiful.
Damn, I miss her.

We pull up to a small home, opposite to the gulf. I jump out and stare out at the whispering darkness. I feel the cool moist air and it livens my spirit.

“Let’s go walk on the beach.”
I miss you.
“Greeeeeg, I’m tirrrreddd. We can spend the whole morning on the beach, can’t we just go inside and lay down?”
I need you, baby.
“Sure.”
“Kay, I love you.”
I followed behind her, through the door way, and planted right into her arms.
“I thought you were tired?”
“Yeah, but I’m also horny.”
Her tongue slid passed my lips and I pull back.
“We gotta get up early, baby, can’t it wait?”
“Are you serious right now? A minute ago you were all ready to go out and explore, and now you don’t even wanna put your fucking cock in me? It’s not like it would take you long anyways…”
“You wanna be fucked, baby?”
I hate you.
“Mhmmm.”
You are not human.
“Fine.”

I picked her up and met her lips with mine. Pushing her against the bathroom door and manipulating the head to the side-I pull my puppet’s strings every which way and as hard as I please. She doesn’t mind. After all, she wants to be abused. Wants to be powerless.
I hate her.
She whispers against my neck. She wants to be fucked.
I carry her to the couch and throw her down. As I unzip my pants, she sits up and explores what lies underneath my shirt. My clothes come off. Hers follow.
This night will be a charade.

Maybe it’s me who’s not human.

awkward dream

ahahahahahahahaha.
HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA.
laugh.

fucking laugh, you piece of shit.
the blade is in.
will you twist it,baby? I wanna feel the edge
singe my organs.
it feels good. makes me come.
makes me feel.
it makes me feel.
repetition, repetition; we'll keep turning the wheel.
its the best this world's got to offer.
its the best we have to offer.
so play your drums and sew your lips
the suture wont heal the wounds from whims.

fluid change on a lucid day.

I almost drowned at 8 years old,
my father died and I don't remember when,
I came in a girl at 16,
and I've seen a man turn his face-
into a void.
I felt the water fill my lungs and I fought for the surface.
I was stuck in a rut, alone;
thrashing, sinking.
dying.
he was dead. and I was angry.
the mosquitos swarmed our meshing bodies.
I felt the pricks, I felt the leaves, and-
I felt her heart throbbing from inside.
legs shaking, breathing heavy, pools ablaze.
the street lights put a fire in those eyes...
the m16 blast to his jaw left a gaping hole.
and as his eyes fluttered and rolled behind his skin,
I felt his pain. I felt the river of blood rush from his throat
and i felt my heart in mine.

I feel like drowning myself in the ocean.

"he told me that he had never came when a girl went down on him-I thought to myself... I could be that girl."

"I was just doing him a favor."

your tendencies are showing
and my memories are rushing.
he'll fill your mouth with cum
and your mind will choke on lies.
along with your twisted lines,
plastic eyes,
and absent life.
how could you die?
you drowned with your beauty
in the bottom of that broken bottle.

"I love you, and I am empty"
yeah, well, at least its half true.