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Wednesday, May 18, 2005 ramblings of a drug addled mind having very little to do with sex indeed: to start with, i ask you, poppers...friend or foe? having had very little satisfying sex lately i've gone the self abuse way, i'd i think we can use the term liberally. usually it's me left arm that gets all out of whack from overuse (though i am a righty for most things i jerk off with the left hand, needing my right hand to keep clicking) but this time it's my right arm. not from the clicking but from pounding my ass with a dildo. i sometimes wonder about finding me a dildo handler but that's really just another term for boyfriend isn't it? so ya i'd been doing some extensive amount of poppers today. that being said, i had 'stopped' abusing myself (20-30 minute breaks are not uncommon when your spending the day diddling) and i had had a shower. i had opened the bathroom door, took the towel away from drying my hair when i saw a ghost. right so, i'm not a 100% sure because this has happened to me before, where i think i see 'spirits' but i could never swear on it. anywhose, usually it startles me, this time it didn't, i just said out loud 'carlos'. it was really happy for a moment. as of late i have heard myself say his name out loud, but it's usually more a plaintive cry. for a brief second i really felt he was there and that i was seeing him. not sure if i mentioned last week i got a call from vallarta. carlos's best friend (straight) was calling telling me to come down. my travel companion is going down shortly, this was the trip that would have seen carlos returning with me had plans gone correctly. well, at the same peculiar time i recieved this phone call, 6am, the travelling companion had apparently woken up from a dream with carlos in it. carlos had given him the message to 'tell duncan i'm ok and with him'. coincidence, sure. part of me thinks i've dealt with it, part of me is a raw exposed nerve that i somehow keep covered up, peeling away the bandage to check if it's okay and it wriggles out all over the place. and then somehow i'm able to squeeze dirty nasty sex thoughts. i swore to myself the last time i mangled my ass was the last time this evening and yet after having typed this out my mind churns out it's own little nasty porn. fist, fist and yet another fist. i want more then a dick or a dildo in me. i think back to the 'friend' telling me about fists and pool balls. why, if i'm so turned on by the idea am i not seeking it out acitively? how does one go about finding the right fist? 2:06 AM |
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