sicpowered

housesitting for friends/bosses. not the place i want to be, but it is quiet, and being alone there allows for a certain sense of retreat. imagine a bed and breakfast, without the staff, still under construction. ungrounded, alone and with only simple things to fancy upon, i've slipped back into the thoughts i don't want to think, but must. the lost days behind me need to occasionally be mourned, not in lip service or little quips and phrases, but in honest hard won tears. i usually put these off, and off, and off. some i don't ever let free, or at least i haven't yet. last night was one of those nights, when i know it must happen, so i cleverly lay myself in the trappings, the machinations of my resolve. i feel better now, not fixed but clearer.

in contrast, i'm so riled up to lay with my part time lover, i cant think three minutes on one thing. I sit at work, staring into the space in front of me, riding shotgun with my overpowered imagination, slipping around the thoughts of lust and passion like a piece of silk loving the wind. then i shake myself awake to the moment, stare at some unsuspecting feminine bystander, instantly evolving her into my fantasy, only to shake myself free again, to concentrate on petty unsensual things for as long as possible. usually about three minutes. the fun of it is, i enjoy it. the anticipation, the lust building, the appetite i'd thought i'd long buried. Now this sexual appetite is awake, and alive, and so aware of every day and every moment. Feels better than submitting to the repression.

so, that's about it for today.
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