From here to there and back again
I am... waiting, for something to happen. It's not. Happening. I am quite distant.
Lying in bed, stroking my stomach as I do for comfort, thinking how did my skin get so soft and can't I just climb inside completely. Or dismantle my brain. Or, I don't know. Just climb inside. I have been honing my technique of the non-proximity orgasm (oh I can't think. Words fail me). It seems, everytime I fall asleep I wake up drowning. Not waving. Having sex in dreams or not having sex but dreaming about coming and then I am coming and then I am waking and thinking oh, well, there we go again. It's beginning to disturb me. I wake up like I've been walking in the rain, so I sprawl myself over his side of the bed. He isn't here anyway. He went to the pub and I felt too ill to go so I went to bed. Now I say come to bed drunk and you'll smell me everywhere and it will be the odour of sex but I didn't fuck some guy while you were out. No I was just jacking off in my sleep again. Is there anything else I am capable of at the moment except jacking off? And I had this kind of out-of-body experience. One minute I was going over certain ideas for my novel yeah yeah that is such a great idea yeah fucking yeah that makes so much sense. And then I had a rape scene I was writing in my head and then suddenly I wasn't even inside anymore. I was outside. But not above. No, I couldn't see myself. I just know I wasn't inside. And then I was. All I see are ten silver nails and a cold cup of coffee. Nothing will wake me up. I'm still waiting.
Lying in bed, stroking my stomach as I do for comfort, thinking how did my skin get so soft and can't I just climb inside completely. Or dismantle my brain. Or, I don't know. Just climb inside. I have been honing my technique of the non-proximity orgasm (oh I can't think. Words fail me). It seems, everytime I fall asleep I wake up drowning. Not waving. Having sex in dreams or not having sex but dreaming about coming and then I am coming and then I am waking and thinking oh, well, there we go again. It's beginning to disturb me. I wake up like I've been walking in the rain, so I sprawl myself over his side of the bed. He isn't here anyway. He went to the pub and I felt too ill to go so I went to bed. Now I say come to bed drunk and you'll smell me everywhere and it will be the odour of sex but I didn't fuck some guy while you were out. No I was just jacking off in my sleep again. Is there anything else I am capable of at the moment except jacking off? And I had this kind of out-of-body experience. One minute I was going over certain ideas for my novel yeah yeah that is such a great idea yeah fucking yeah that makes so much sense. And then I had a rape scene I was writing in my head and then suddenly I wasn't even inside anymore. I was outside. But not above. No, I couldn't see myself. I just know I wasn't inside. And then I was. All I see are ten silver nails and a cold cup of coffee. Nothing will wake me up. I'm still waiting.