Primordial feelings
Feelings. Because the basest, unrationalised ones are often truest.
I hate the smell of rain on hot asphalt. The warm dusty musk of wet earth released mingling with the stench of hot tar. The barely perceptible little oodles of steam that rise as the rain slaps the pockmarked road. A noxious assault on the senses.
I detest cowards who lie because they have no sense of self. Liars who lie as if breathing and for whom deception is a way of life. Words rendered meaningless by virtue of the fact that the liar neither means what he says nor speaks the truth at all. The only thing worse than a liar is a stupid liar.
I abhor the way you cry. Your crumpled face, noh like mask with rivulets of tears as you wring your hands and weep. Reeking of sweat and the stench of your breath. The way you seek to justify the unjustifiable, your horrendous volatility, the madness that vacillates from simpering unsought for servitude to acrimonious accusations and unfettered drama. So weak, so self-serving, so delusional. So fucking you.
I like the feel of soft satin. The silky smooth caress of light sheets on the bed. To snuggle under the covers as the storm rages outside. The crashing thunder and snaking tongues of lightning, accompaniment to the din of the falling rain. A lulling symphony of sorts.
I appreciate my friends. The warmth, concern, camaraderie and support. The company of friends and the shared experiences, the joys of interaction and sharing the burdens of problems a source of strength and pride. Poor is the man without friends.
I love the simple things in life and its little comforts. The hedonistic allure of carnal comforts, good food, quite a bit of self pampering. The thrill from a sudden but highly satisfactory purchase. Abstinence is unnecessary deprivation. Desire tempered by moderation but always present.
I lust for the warmth of another guy's embrace. The intimacy afforded from curling up beside another, hot, hard and lean. Passionate kisses and frenzied foreplay. Skin on skin, entwined in sweaty embrace till the climatic finish.
Sometimes, I long for the company of another man. Compatible, communicative and one I'm comfortable with. To love, hold and fuck ( not necessarily in that order) Someone I'd not regret or dread at the end of the day. Now is that so hard...?
I hate the smell of rain on hot asphalt. The warm dusty musk of wet earth released mingling with the stench of hot tar. The barely perceptible little oodles of steam that rise as the rain slaps the pockmarked road. A noxious assault on the senses.
I detest cowards who lie because they have no sense of self. Liars who lie as if breathing and for whom deception is a way of life. Words rendered meaningless by virtue of the fact that the liar neither means what he says nor speaks the truth at all. The only thing worse than a liar is a stupid liar.
I abhor the way you cry. Your crumpled face, noh like mask with rivulets of tears as you wring your hands and weep. Reeking of sweat and the stench of your breath. The way you seek to justify the unjustifiable, your horrendous volatility, the madness that vacillates from simpering unsought for servitude to acrimonious accusations and unfettered drama. So weak, so self-serving, so delusional. So fucking you.
I like the feel of soft satin. The silky smooth caress of light sheets on the bed. To snuggle under the covers as the storm rages outside. The crashing thunder and snaking tongues of lightning, accompaniment to the din of the falling rain. A lulling symphony of sorts.
I appreciate my friends. The warmth, concern, camaraderie and support. The company of friends and the shared experiences, the joys of interaction and sharing the burdens of problems a source of strength and pride. Poor is the man without friends.
I love the simple things in life and its little comforts. The hedonistic allure of carnal comforts, good food, quite a bit of self pampering. The thrill from a sudden but highly satisfactory purchase. Abstinence is unnecessary deprivation. Desire tempered by moderation but always present.
I lust for the warmth of another guy's embrace. The intimacy afforded from curling up beside another, hot, hard and lean. Passionate kisses and frenzied foreplay. Skin on skin, entwined in sweaty embrace till the climatic finish.
Sometimes, I long for the company of another man. Compatible, communicative and one I'm comfortable with. To love, hold and fuck ( not necessarily in that order) Someone I'd not regret or dread at the end of the day. Now is that so hard...?
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