Sex is not a goddamn performance. Sex should feel as natural as drinking water. It should not require confidence.
Sex should happen, because the moment is ripe. Ripening lips, ripening labia, ripening cock, ripening pupils, ripening state of being. Ripe and augmented and brimming. Your energy goes to your pumping heart, then to every external nerve, then to theirs, on fire.
You bask, roll, play in it. You sigh, moan, laugh. It’s not about being good in bed. It’s about being happy.
One should never worry if they’re doing it correctly. Sex is not factual. I don’t want your cookie-cutter sex, I don’t want your meticulously crafted, calculated, fool-proof fuck. I don’t want a show. I want you. Let your instincts, urges and whims define that. It’s enough.
What do most girls like? Forget about it. Statistics are meaningless when there’s only one. Hello, here’s me. Here’s you. Don’t worry about taking it too slow. We got time. We got infinite rhythms, combinations, possibilities. Explore each fuck. Take our time. We can do a different one later.
Don’t worry about making me come. I’m here. Right where I want to be. I am overwhelmed by wanting; you don’t have to convince me. I want you because I like you. So don’t put on a front. Don’t taint this.
I’m frustrated—it’s just authenticity I want. It’s originality. It’s passion. It’s joy. Don’t say that something I like is ugly. Don’t compare yourself to the rest. You will live and die with and within your experiences like everyone else. If someone thinks you are amazing, they are not wrong. Their universe is as real as any other; it is forged through perception.
I don’t care if you accidentally slammed my head into the wall, if you slipped out, if my arm cracked, if the delightful pressure of your wet lips on my anything made a silly sound. There is no right way and no wrong way.
Good in bed. What? You’re good in my bed. I’m pleased you’re there. I feel it suits you. Shove your technique. Let your memory swallow it. Fuck me like you’d fuck me, fuck me like you feel. This isn’t a test.
i go through periods of
“i’m so fucking cool and awesome and hot. I would date me”
“i’m so fucking ugly why do people talk to me i’m such a loser”
“LIFE IS AWESOME LOOK A BIRD. SO PRETTY. EARTH IS BEAUTIFULLLL!!”
“oh my god everyone is so fucked up i hate people and want to die.”
All before 9am
Went for a jog after work today. Totally gross out on how BADLY I smelled like after that.. but still glad I forced myself to go for that pathetic 3km run 😅 #atleastiran…
After that went for dinner with love and brother. (Damn calories)
On a side note, I bet on w cup Germany vs France. And the next day Belgium vs Argentina. Crossed fingers I win some money.. pleasepleaseplease.
*forgets what im talking about halfway through a sentence*
I thought I will never be good enough for you. You seemed so perfect.. to me. As time goes by, I begin to see a deeper you, probably the true you. Sometimes I get confuse. Your crazy side, your good man side. Which is which?
Then again, you probably feel the same way about me.
We are all a little crazy inside.