Desultory and Impulsive

Dear The Voice.

Never before have I willfully subjected myself to such an onslaught of beige sounding music.

Enjoy this victory of yours
I assure you that it will never ever happen again.
 
I just came in from splitting wood.

I am feeling rather accomplished.
The such causes me to feel happy.
The thought of having to do the such for the rest of my life does not.

I have laundry to fold.
 
Another all time favorite song of mine.

One that I absolutely love and hold dear to my heart and am surprised it never really took off back in the day when so much of everything else was taking off.

If I were a woman this song would be my fucking song of songs.

Every time I hear it I think how somewhere, some women who's had a shitty day or is just sick of it all is driving home from work, or away from some shit fuck relationship for the last time (and for fucking real this time) and is just belting this out at the top of her goddamn lungs

And I just fucking love it
 
I want to stick something up inside a woman.

I'm not exactly sure what.

Not my dick
Or my fingers
Or my fist

Something unconventional
Nonsexual

Something ordinary



A gift of some kind
Something I would like for her to have
And keep for me

And when asked,
Give back to me.

Something I could slide inside her
And watch her push out

Something cold
That she could warm up for me

Something that when seen, mentioned, or used as intended would cause her to become wet.
 
I want to stick something up inside a woman.

I'm not exactly sure what.

Not my dick
Or my fingers
Or my fist

Something unconventional
Nonsexual

Something ordinary



A gift of some kind
Something I would like for her to have
And keep for me

And when asked,
Give back to me.

Something I could slide inside her
And watch her push out

Something cold
That she could warm up for me

Something that when seen, mentioned, or used as intended would cause her to become wet.

Reminds me a little of a lit friend who liked to spank women with a kitchen spatula because he liked the idea that she would be doing something mundane in the kitchen... flipping eggs or whatever... and she’d suddenly remember him using it on her...

ps - I like the song choice, x
 
I lay here
Wondering
What it's like
To kiss a woman
For the first time.

The thought
Struck me weird
When
I first thought it
While driving home

It has been a while
Since
I've been given
An opportunity
Or
Found myself
With such a felt
Welcomed sense
Where a woman
Wanted the such to happen

And so in the shower
I thought
And the feeling of the thought
Made me feel awkward

Mostly in that...
I feel too old
To find myself...

I don't know.
I just can't see it
And thinking about the actual act...

The woman...

I think she would have to be
Nearer to my age

Or older

Because although I paint myself as
Sadistic with a bent for domination
I
Am also
Romantic

At least
Romance
Is what
I long to feel

Intimate
Sweeping emotions
Of getting so caught up in each other

This isn't to say
The such wouldn't happen
With a younger woman

But more to rather say
That I would just
Feel foolish
Fearing I would appear
Desperate


But then...
What if a younger woman
Wanted me to kiss her?
To take her into my arms
And
Hold her
As
Our lips met?

What if she wanted
To
Feel
The kind of security
I knew
I could give her?

How could
I say
No
To that?



Anyway...
Like it
Or hate it
Such are my thoughts
This early morning.
 
I want
To fill her vagina
Full of BBs.

I want to know how many she can hold
How many pounds I can put into her

I want to hear the sound
Of the BBs
As I pour them into the plastic funnel
And see them funnel down into her

Her body bent over
Face down
Ass up
Wrists tied to each ankle
Feeling herself
Becoming pregnant with the weight of steel
 

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I had a fleeting thought about licking her eyeball today

I was going to text her
But the thought of it seemed strange

Even writing it here seems strange

The whole thing seems strange

Like I shouldn't have such thoughts
Like I should have grown out of it
...the bizarreness.

But it's all still there in my mind
Pushing against the door
Opening it up just a crack.
 
Where are you
My little come dumpster fuck pig?
My little meat wagon urinal princess.
The palm of my hand
Is missing the slap of your face
My fingers miss the tightness of your asshole
And circling around your cervix
Where are you?
Where could you be?
Where is your hair for me to hold in my fist?
Or your eyes for me to blacken?
Where is your throat for me to choke
Or your nose for me to make bloody?
Where are you?
 
I want you here
With me
To blood fuck your face
And make you feel
How real
The dirt of the earth
Really is.
 
Where are you
My little moonlit meadow flower?
My lip miss the velvet satin of your being
My lungs long to cradle the hedonistic soft scent
Of the body my heart remembers
Where are you my humid summer love?
My mind cannot see you
Behind the dark winter of my mind
I reach out to you
I beg you the say a word
Something
To give me hope
Under these grey skies
You are my everything
The very thing my being wishes to hold
Secure
Forever

Where?
Where are you.
 
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I want you here
I want to feel your kiss tell my heart
Once again
That you are with me
 
Hey.
There's something I've been meaning to tell you.

I know I've not been around for sometime
And perhaps it feels as though I've been all out ignoring you.

There's a reason for this
And it not an easy reason to make known

I've never been good with words
Or expressing my true feelings
But the fact of the matter is...

Well...

I'm not attracted to you.


I don't like you.



I never really did.

I wish I could say that I was sorry
But I know that if I did
I would only be apologizing to myself
For wasting my time
Telling you the things you wanted to hear most

You mean everything to me... You are beautiful... I miss you... I love you... Your heart is safe with me...

Not one bit of it was true.

The only thing that was true
Was my wish to see you naked and to get you to get me off. And even then I really didn't much give a shit.

Sure we had good talks and there were some deep moments where I felt you connect with me. Good for you? Make the best of that moment and grow from it?

I don't know.
And I really don't care.

I'm sure this is probably a kick to the crotch. And I'm sure you are all ready to to spew your rebuttal and "let me have it" by saying you I wasted so much of your life on me, that you truly cared for me, that you thought we had some kind of future. Save it. You are right. I know. But there again... that's you. Your perception of us. Not mine. So again... go with it be mad. No loss to me.
 
Hey... it's me again.

I was pissing in the toilet and I got to thinking why I liked shoving you face down in it the nights you stayed over.

I come to realize that's what you really deserved. And given how you could have struggled more I figured that you too knew that was what you deserved.

You disgust me
The only redeeming quality you have is how much you disgust yourself.

You really are nothing more than a sloppy twat fuck pig
 
Hey...

I'm laying on the couch

Do you remember the couch?
Laying on it together?
Your head on my chest?
How we would just lay here together
Wanting nothing more than what was right there between us?

That nothing of time
...and everything of each other.

The heat of your body
Never wanting it to fade
The smell of your hair
Kissing the top of your head
Holding you tight
Feeling the give of your breast cradle my forearm between them.

I hate that I miss you
I hate the pain of the words that I have written
I hate the difficult dynamics between us

I know that you are reading this
I know that you know I am full of shit

But I also know that you know that I'm not
And that when I say that I love you... I mean it.

I love you.
 
Don't you hate it when you have sex the night before and you wake up horny and wanting to get off but the person you had sex with has left for work or whatever and so you think about looking at porn but then you think that perhaps you should wait it out and direct the driving force behind the want to get off towards the person you had sex with when they come back home but then figure how that really isn't a guarantee --at least not how you imagine it in your head-- and so you figure that perhaps you'll look at a little porn knowing full well you're going to masturbate but pretending that you are not going to because you know how that if you want to have the kind of sexual experience with the person you want to have the experience with--you gotta go after it yourself... rather than chasing the empty shadows of fantasy. But fuck if those empty shadows don't do it for you right now and so you get all caught up in the deal and get yourself off and you are laying there post orgasm thinking... "Goddamnit. Why am I like this?" And because you did it all in the morning you have the whole rest of the day hating yourself and the knowledge that in a few more hours part of you is going to be all like... "You know what would make you feel a little better for a moment? An orgasm. So go ahead. This self loathing got you nowhere this far, you need a break."

No? Just me?

Okay.
Nevermind.
 
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