Beat it! Beat it! Whisk aaah! Whisk aaah! Whisk, whisk, whisk...*whisk*
My last four entries? Rant, whinge, review and rant. So should I try and write something personal? Maybe some insight to the inside of my psyche? Shall I put some effort into a summary of my emotional mindscape? Capture a snippet of my frail identity and offer it to you on intangible scroll?
I fucking wish. But it’s spring! So my thoughts revert to those most natural. In other words… I’m horny. I try to escape the lad-ish fixation with getting laid that the media so vehemently supports, but, like most, I can’t switch off the chemical reactions that are winding me into dizzy lust.
I resist desperate acts of sexualising every girl I see… I don’t leer, make slimy attempts to gain their attention, or turn around to check out their ass when they pass in the street. In fact, if I happen to notice the sort of girl that would gain the attention of most guys (and in reality, mine too) I act against instinct and spare her my gaze. Whilst this allows me to trick myself into believing that I’m sophisticated beyond basic humanity, the chemical reactions remain, to taunt me with whispers that I’m living a lie.
I’m not just horny though. The sinister, invisible hand of evolution is moulding my thoughts to meet it’s own ends. I have a girlfriend, but simple sex will not suffice. My eyes are wandering of their own accord, and they’re towing my thoughts by the retinal cord for the ride. I’m aching to touch someone new. Craving the sparkling nerve end reaction that accompanies physical discovery. To kiss without knowledge of where it might lead, so you’ll follow the curve from chest to hip with the slightest contact from graceful tips of outstretched fingers, sensing the reactions that will guide you to her limit and…
Of course, I must stop. I’d love to dwell on it further but it’s the 21st century and you can’t allow yourself to think natural thoughts. Things are far more complicated now and isn’t the world such a better place for psychology and personal politics? Pah! I’m off to plug my sexual tension, the only way I know how*… I’m going to make cake.
*Just so’s you know, I do know the other way… but I’m just too fond of my sight.
I fucking wish. But it’s spring! So my thoughts revert to those most natural. In other words… I’m horny. I try to escape the lad-ish fixation with getting laid that the media so vehemently supports, but, like most, I can’t switch off the chemical reactions that are winding me into dizzy lust.
I resist desperate acts of sexualising every girl I see… I don’t leer, make slimy attempts to gain their attention, or turn around to check out their ass when they pass in the street. In fact, if I happen to notice the sort of girl that would gain the attention of most guys (and in reality, mine too) I act against instinct and spare her my gaze. Whilst this allows me to trick myself into believing that I’m sophisticated beyond basic humanity, the chemical reactions remain, to taunt me with whispers that I’m living a lie.
I’m not just horny though. The sinister, invisible hand of evolution is moulding my thoughts to meet it’s own ends. I have a girlfriend, but simple sex will not suffice. My eyes are wandering of their own accord, and they’re towing my thoughts by the retinal cord for the ride. I’m aching to touch someone new. Craving the sparkling nerve end reaction that accompanies physical discovery. To kiss without knowledge of where it might lead, so you’ll follow the curve from chest to hip with the slightest contact from graceful tips of outstretched fingers, sensing the reactions that will guide you to her limit and…
Of course, I must stop. I’d love to dwell on it further but it’s the 21st century and you can’t allow yourself to think natural thoughts. Things are far more complicated now and isn’t the world such a better place for psychology and personal politics? Pah! I’m off to plug my sexual tension, the only way I know how*… I’m going to make cake.
*Just so’s you know, I do know the other way… but I’m just too fond of my sight.