Tuesday, September 20, 2005

Life moves like molasses, without sex.

Yes the sexless day or the day without the promise of sex is a day of focus and determination, an hour free of interruption from the fact that you are a hungry animal. Seconds call upon you to fulfill your noble goals, plateau of satisfaction upon their completion. Great is the viscosity of minutes when there is no proper number to drunk dial. When your options are nihil. Caffinate my cells with fire. Love is humidity. I am dry as age. When there is no object of my desire, all I can think of is the days end, when I have grown nearer to ordinary achievments. I am forced to focus on the future. All actions are practical. Tedious. Libido is the kindest friend of immediacy. Everyone loves to at least have a crush. When all else fails, she sees the empty magician. Smoke and mirrors. Masturbation. Tick-tock.

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