Desultory and Impulsive

[y=mx+b]

You know...

It is creepy as fuck; and solicits a certain feeling of having been assaulted, to know that technology is listening in on you. But at the same time, vacation destination suggestions are kinda nice when you don't have a clue where to go or how to go about getting there.

 

[y=mx+b]

Laying in bed
She woke
And said to me
In her sing-song voice

"How are you doing?"

I said "I'm doing okay"

She then said "I don't know why I'm awake either."

Then closed her eyes
And promptly fell back asleep
Leaving me once again
Alone
Thinking about what I had written
Earlier today
About my nap

Wondering
Where
She was now

And why she won't take my hand again

But such is her way
And I'm oddly okay with that
I guess.

 

[y=mx+b]

A previous self of me
Earlier today
Thought a thought
About a woman
With a limp

And in my mind
I wrote a story about her

She was there again
I watched her
There was an odd attraction to her
Something...

Her limp wasn't due to a missing leg

It just... was. There. Always there

With her
A reminder.

And that's as far as my thought had gotten

 

[y=mx+b]

I don't know where I was in my thought when I saw her.

I think I had myself sitting in a diner
Looking out the window

It may have been raining

Me knowing myself
It was probably a noir piece.

Where I was in actuality
Was outside
Splitting wood.

 

[y=mx+b]

The thing about me thinking about it
Was that it wasn't even me that saw her
But a thought of a guy just as fictional
As the woman herself

A guy who had his own thoughts
I hadn't even thought about yet

 

[y=mx+b]

Good morning.

 

[y=mx+b]

Something I didn't know was an issue

I did an "incest" search on pornhub because... well... that's how I roll sometimes and fuck all your attempts to shame me.

No such subject found.

Found this interesting because prior to this morning's search, such a search sprung gabillions of results.

Did a little research as to why. As it turns out, droves upon droves of porn fiends were upset incest videos were flooding there regular porn searches.

I get it.

Some article discussed actual acts of incest and molestation and how triggering/horrible it is for some individuals to be subjected to such... while looking for content to rub one off to.

I get it

There were discussions about state laws... mentions of biblical history... blah blah blah... why the topic has become as popular as it has... the corruption of humanity's moral fiber... what is more reprehensible, those that provide or those that consume, and who/what's to blame.


There was actually a discussion of its popularity in porn at work. A coworker was bitching about how he was watching a porn vid and apparently it ended up being a step-daddy/daughter vid and he was all like HONEST TO FUCK I WAS JUST IN IT BECAUSE THE CHICK WAS HOT!!! I DON'T WANT THIS DADDY/DAUGHTER BULLSHIT!

The situation reminded me of another coworker of mine many years back disgusted by anal sex and anal play and how the day has come where that's all there is (at some point) in porn.


As per usual, I'm not entirely sure what my point of all this is.

I've no interest to rail against the powers that be or reason behind why pornhub nixed all search results for "incest"

I guess if anything I find it so goddamn laughable by how liberating the internet was supposed to be and am left wondering how much longer we have before pornhub becomes something akin to what Tumblr now is.

 

[y=mx+b]

But then...

I recall hearing something about the downfall of Tumblr was due to pornhub putting the screws to it for stolen content and how Tumblr spun the "decision" to remove all pornographic content to curb sextrafficing. Or whatever

So the sentiment behind the final paragraph on my previous post is kinda lost.

No matter. There is a certain feeling of devolution to pornography. So much had once been unabashedly available to us.

 

[y=mx+b]

In her heart hurt a want
Of what she knew she never had
A boy
Friend
A guy
A man to fall in love with
Before feelings of wanting to fuck
Fell into place

One that would make her smile
Laugh
Chase her
Tackle
Tickle
Take her to the ground
Rough house
Weary aware of her body
Her breasts
Wanting so to touch them
And doing so
By avoiding doing so

 

[y=mx+b]

She lost another life tonight

Gone
Between her gloved fingers
Warmth of wet
Growing cold

Falling out
Like broken geometry
Of melting snowflakes

Never to be seen
Or replaced
Or held like it once was

Gone.



























Gone.

 

[y=mx+b]

They miss her words.

This isn't to say that I don't
That I catch her all

But then... I do

And I like those that do
Because it makes me feel warm

And less alone

When those like me
See

And are just quiet

Perhaps... send a message saying yeah

And nothing more

And feeling that yeah
All through the noise

And I like it.

It's like a secret
When I see her words
In places and ways
Where no one else can.

 

[y=mx+b]

Catapult my funk
Against your bass heavy breast body
Slapping and jamming to grinding gears and chords and rhythm sweat rock

Make me feel you
With your words of war and warriors
Of blood and come and fighting off submission

Speak to me of you heartfelt gaze
How hurt skin bruised
Of lust and longing
Linger like the breached gouged hull
Of a ship sinking
In the salt tranquil tears
Of cascading waterfalls
Over the soft curved cheeks
Of your face

Let me
Allow me
To feel your music

The cadence and fall
Of that which is your orgasm

Held so tight against my ear
At work
At home
In my sleep
Laying closed eyes and quiet
My head
Against a pillow
Which I so wished beat
The song
That plays in your chest.

 

[y=mx+b]

Don't you think this think of a thought once known

She was a charred oak bourbon barrel brandy drinking babe a real bitches brew kind of blue sinking sultry sounds into the sight of my eye

No known word could touch the let go lust of her wax dripped bound to boards hammer tacked tits

None that she couldn't speak
Or write herself
Of the experience
Against the struggle of a body masculine.

 

[y=mx+b]

...and I saw her sitting there
At the edge of the end of the hotel bar
We both wished we weren't sitting at

And I wrote her I note...

Would you like me to pull your hair?

Yes
No
Maybe​

(circle one)​

 

[raindancer]

I dig the percussion of your words.

 

[y=mx+b]

I dig the percussion of your words.

I dig that you dig them.
Because I dig you!

 

[y=mx+b]

But right now...

...my thoughts must rest
Because it is...

 

[y=mx+b]

She reached for her phone
Hoping for a message

There wasn't one

Not the one she wanted
Not the one she was hoping for

She put her phone down
Not feeling the warmth or smile
She hated to admit she anticipated

She closed her eyes...

Perhaps later today...
Perhaps tomorrow.

 

[raindancer]

!!!!!!

 

[y=mx+b]

What did she smell like?

Lavender
Bergamot
And the pre-spring winter sun

Cold and woodsmoke
Clung to her hair

Our lips met
And we kissed.

 

[y=mx+b]

She sat at the edge of the bed
And realized
That she didn't know
How to fall in love

Everything was straight to fucking

There had never been a moment
Of hesitation
If that was what was wanted
That was what she gave

They made it all so easy
To skip that part

Which now
At this point in her life
Was the part most missing

Whenever she felt she had it
Or was getting close to it
She felt awkward
Inadequate

And felt like running away

It was always so easy to just... drop to her knees

...to touch men sexually

And skirt around intimacy
Actual intimacy

The kind that hurt so badly
Well beyond all the physical things
That had ever been done to her.

 

[y=mx+b]

She thumbed through Tinder
Still never really comfortable with the thought of being out there advertising herself as being available

And... easy

desperate

But the thing was... she liked sex

She wanted sex.
The rush she got from hooking-up

Tinder
Fetlife
Bumble
Reddit
...forums

Anywhere... anything that provided the missing connection.

Just to... connect

Eliminate the bullshit
Throw it all out there...

I like to fuck



But yet... there she was

In possession of a catalogue of experiences she could call upon and masturbate to

But with no one real in her life

No one she could actually count on
Just to fucking be with her.

 

[y=mx+b]

She focused on the sensation of her arousal

Masturbation was an everyday affair
Even if it was just pressing hard on her clit for a second

It cleared her head
Like hitting reset

When she was younger it was her own personal little secret

The thought itself gave her a thrill
In her head her little voice saying... Look what I can do that no one knows about!

And she was happy with that



Until she discovered that another couldn't only do it also to her... but wanted to do it to her.

And it wasn't just her secret anymore... it was their secret

Right or wrong that made it all the more delightfully dirty.

 

[y=mx+b]

Side note... I do not see how a staple gun is odd. No more odd than say... a hay hook or cob of corn

 

[y=mx+b]

Or thumb tacks