Monday, 25 April 2011

The Joke.

They'd fucked like rabbits for days.

Somehow, she lay prone and spread out on his back, her head resting on his back. He could feel the rise and fall of her chest against his back. The very thought of her breasts against her back made him smile.

She sighed.

They were happy. Like deep in their guts, stupid smile on their faces happy. He willed his mind to stay with him. Placing an arm under his chin, he felt her inhale deeply, brushing her always stiff nipples on the sides of his back. He felt her wake.

She ran her left leg along the length of his right. He felt her smile involuntarily.

"Talk". She spoke.

"What? Er... What should I say?"

"Anything. I like hearing you talk."

He was almost certain she was smiling. It seemed to pull at his chest anytime she smiled. You know those type of smiles that left her entire, almost straight teeth glaring for the world to see? With spaces in between the sides of her lips and her teeth? With the middle of her lower lip creating a slight dimple? A dimple he'd come to love to suck?

"I'll tell you a story, then"

"Make it scary". She breathed. "And horny".

"Haha". I'm a specialist at tragedy."

He could almost picture her think. She said he had a ready made answer for everything. Sometimes he thought in his head, I have a readymade dick for everything. But he knew. And he was scared. He was so scared, he doubted his ability to please her. He felt the moisture of her warm breathe settle on his neck. She felt the tips of her fingers, slightly, ever so slightly, caress the nape of his neck. He shivered, not from the touch, but from the thought of what that slight touch could do to his mind.

"What are you thinking about?"


"So you won't tell me a story then?"

"Except you'd listen to a tragedy?"

She rolled off him to his side. She faced him, her almost angelic

"Let’s make a story then, just you and me".

He turned over, as she sat up on his laps. He grabbed her ass, tilted his head and kissed her neck. Her hands splayed at his sides, clutching his ribcage with as much ferocity as he worked his magic on her neck. He moved to her collar bone, and felt the laps moisten. He drew away. He held her face in his hands, and silently willed her to smile. As he saw the approach of a smile on her small face, he closed his eyes, and enclosed her upper lip in a soft kiss. He slowed down the kiss, totally disregarding her lower lip, barely kissing her, making her lean forward in want....

She drew his face to hers, her hands on his head, kissing him so hard she almost drew blood. He turned her over, laying her down on the bed, tracing a path from her lips to her very core, barely hearing her soft moans turn into muffled screams as his lips brushed against her clitoris. His tongue parted her lips, tasting the sour and warm essence of her. Teasing, licking, softly chewing, her laps closed over his ears so tightly, he almost turned deaf to her outward screams. Using his mouth like a suction tube, he applied "mouthy" pressure on her vagina and, at first brushed against her rudder gently, before proceeding to make into his own private lollipop...

Her eyes glazed over as he worked his magic over her.

Such undeniable magic. It was embarrassing to not admit how much he made her come verbally, but admit it directly to his mouth. Never had she wanted to conquer a human so much. She could hardly remember how it happened. Much of their relationship was purely sexual. Form the first day she texted him, his brazen sexuality tickled her senses in ways it shouldn't have.

His Voice.

His voice alone could caress her from miles away, making her want him with warm proof from between her thighs...The first time she saw him, she wasn't actually that attracted to his face to be honest, but it certainly didn't lose any points with lesser opinions so it mattered not.

Besides, his body, his style, his seriousness was just intoxicating. So intoxicating, how could she resist a little random sex?

With him, she found herself saying that a lot.

“How can I resist?”

He came to her hotel room the next day, as soon as she opened the door she felt the game was afoot instantly. This pretty ass boy came to fall in love. She felt his desire for her. It crackled in the air.

She didn't even remember how it happened to be honest, all she knew was suddenly everybody was naked, suddenly his mouth was everywhere, suddenly all these gorgeous adlibs were raining down on her and suddenly her panties were being torn off by a perfect set of model teeth.

Absolute demon.

His penis made her think of a Dragon, ancient & powerful, commanding, yet benevolent if loved correctly. Every rumor she had ever heard of the stereotypical african man presented itself in her face that day. She felt like the knight who instead of slaying the Dragon, wooed it to get to it's treasure.

To even compare it to her forearm would be incredulous.

And she took all of it.

She fucking bruised it. He got drunk off her ability, no one had ever taken over his body like that.

As he had her climbing the wall to get away from his tongue.

While smoking a blunt.

He talked. “What are we doing?”

She kissed the tip of his member and his eyes instantly shut. “We're just two human beings, enjoying each other. You'll never want to stop enjoying me, you love this fat pussy too much.”

Another kiss, this time met with a groan.

“Why don't you come over here and show me just how much you're going to miss this soon? I might hate you next time I see you, this might be your only chance.”

His eyes fly open and he stares right into her's, looking for any sort of deception or mirth that would indicate her words be translated into a joke. But she did not change any part of her face, she neither smiled nor frowned, She had never been more serious with him.

She had reached the pinnacle of her debauchery and her moral compass had become completely askew... It was not her heart to hurt the one fucked, but she had to, to keep herself happy, she did not set out to cause him pain, she simply did not have the courage to break free and so she deviated and like so many of the others before him, her feelings for this dude could be completely eradicated in a matter of a few simple and blissful minutes.

Justice has no place for “feelings” and “sex” in the same breath in this world.

She glanced at the ring on her finger, as it gripped his inner left thigh. It was the ring her boyfriend gave her. It would be his doom eventually. There was no denying that were was no future in them. She found his little bouts of jealousy attractive because of the deficiency's of the relationship she was in at the time.

She would go back, continue to fuck her perfectly loving boyfriend, she could and would not break free.

He still stared into her eyes. She pouted her lips, half closing her eyes in a mock sensual pose and lifted her legs up to his shoulders. He bent down, with her legs still on his shoulder, elevating her ass fully off the bed, his turgid penis brush against her sex.

She shivered.

As he tried to kiss her, she evaded his mouth, caught his ear with her lips, and whispered softly:

Fuck Me. Love Me?

She felt him smile. Such was his complete control, he entered her without a word. Moving inside her, filling her so completely she thought his dick was brushing against her womb. Her legs began to turn into jelly. Her toes arched and a gust of wind blew against her soles...

He stared into her wide eyes. He saw the pleasure he was inflicting on her, saw it written in black and white on her face.

She's beautiful. And much more so when that pretty face was wracked with pleasure.

But she is a fool. Absolutely beautiful, to some, stunning body, to all, but very little mental capability. I don't know what she'll do when her looks run out. She was so lucky to have her boyfriend. Someone who loved her. Who would marry her. In fact, he thought she was lucky getting fucked by him. He couldn't reconcile the facts. They didn't love each other, they loved their mutual understanding. No, they loved each other. *sigh* He just couldn't reconcile it.

He felt his loins quiver. He heard her voice tremble. Ever so distantly. He couldn't stop now. Just like he couldn't stop fucking loving her. He smiled. Ruefully.

She thinks He jokes.

And in a way He does.

With their entire relationship.

Everybody has a purpose. You just have to find the balance.

Monday, 11 April 2011

A Little Reblogging Love.


And So.

It’s Cold. All is wet, bright and zen. When I woke up, I felt at peace, so cool, all was light and bright and nothing was pressuring my mind. Put on some Rita Marley. She always speaks of Jah.

Then it hit me. I’m lonely because I want to be.

Its funny how lonely I feel at times, even if there are about 500 people I could speak to, tweet to or just decide to take an interest in. Would be stupid to say none of them are interesting. Maybe I’m the boring one? Rita Marley’s fussing and fighting comes up. I should not write in times like this. I could terribly bore you. But then, sometimes, boring can be fun.

Your boyfriend/girlfriend should be your best friend. There is no black and white in that shit.

This generation has degenerated into such terrible fakeness, we are beginning to lose our identities as persons. We fuck around trying to find the perfect partner, while at the end of the day, we find ourselves unable to discern between what is fake and what is true. What is true about ourselves. About our very persons.

Ziggy Marley’s Testify.

That we all are looking for love. There. I said it. I fully admit it to myself, we all want deep romance. Lust is boring. Lust is nothing. I despise it, it's so basic, so mundane, such a peasant action, it gives birth to life trash. I want nothing to do with lust anymore.

I want love. We want love.

Lots of love.

Deep trust, deep understanding, friendship.

Friendship. Bonding. Linked hearts.

Get me?

I’m guessing this is me growing up, really knowing what I want, and finally gritting my teeth and admitting what exactly I have to do and not do to get what I want. Some things are unhealthy for you, emotionally, physically, stay away from poison. Giving, receiving or if you're simply around it, stay away from it. I've had some pretty harrowing experiences in my day, and lust led me to all of those dragons. Led me into the mouth of all those monsters. I've survived, but as always, you learn from your actions. Well, I do. Especially from the consequences. So in short.

Fuck lust.

I want to hold hands. I want to talk. I want to smoke. I want to listen to music.

I don't want to fuck. I don't want to know in what position you want to fuck. I don’t want to see you naked. I don’t want to caress.

I want to touch. Your soul.

I want to make you speechless.

I’m almost like a girl. I'm very passionate you know? I'm romantic. I'm a believer, I have faith in the power of love. All that epic Disney shit really touched me as a child. Especially that: Pocahontas. And I've seen it, I know it's real, because I can imagine it. Because I can envision a perfect love, an endless love, that ability? Is more than enough to fuel my belief in what seems other worldly to us now. What seems so fake.

We have created Fake Love.

We're just confused. At least that's what I believe. Love is still here, we've just forgotten what it looks like. Some of us have never even known. How can you? How would you? When you think and base yourself by the stupid standards of others? Of what your boyfriend should look like? Of what your girlfriend should look like? Or how you say: “We connect, but I don’t like her that way?” Of how, he’s my best friend but I’m not in lust with him? Lust? Then you meet a simply handsome dude, who has nothing but lust for you, and then the fakeness that is actually lust, which you believe is love, take over your soul. He tells you: I love you. With a leer in his mind. Of course, you can’t see that. You’re blinded by your fake definition of love. You’re blinded by desire.

I have lost all respect for those blinded by desire, it sickens me to my stomach when I see a stranger glance at someone with lust, lust sickens me, men and women fueled by lust plague my heart, I am angered, because lust demeans people’s worth. She is more than this flesh, all the beguiling aesthetics around her.

And so society also nails this feign over and over in the head. Watch twilight. She’d fuck Edward before Jacob. Shallow… I never will be.

Cue: Rita Marley. One Draw ( I wanna get high)

And so the flesh no longer has my attention, I only want to see your mind, I only want soul, I only love soul, I only feel soul. I only touch soul. I only speak to soul. I only fuck soul.

I used to do random sex too. Might be a tad confusing. But I do not agree with sleeping around to satisfy some deep emotional issue. Some deep emotional longing. Know what you want, get it. Don’t catch stupid fake ass feelings. Don’t discuss how many kid’s you’ll have. Cause all you have is just fuck. Just sex. It’s two wide differing places. You’ll have to learn it yourself. But wait, if you really want to enjoy the sex. First fuck the mind.

In the end, it is what it is.

Always follow your mind. It brings only Joy.

Don’t stomach nonsense. Fuck the pretty and bad bitches.

Your definition of Love is Blind. Isn’t being dumb enough?

Thursday, 7 April 2011

Per Usual.

Per usual, I don’t know what to say.

I always write in the face of emotional turmoil, because writing is what clears my head. That being said, it’s so fucking amusing that many people seem to be amused or get inspired with my misery. And now, I’m frankly sure 2011 wants to suck my dick. I’ve broken so many bridges this year, trying to be happy, or trying to give up on people who would rather kiss my ass than suck my dick, and, BRA, you’ll never understand how hard these things can me. People could have their lips glued to the crack of your ass so much, the extra effort you need to force them off is soul wrenching.

Anyways. I've had an emotionally taxing day in which I had to explain the unexplainable and defend my spirituality (or my lack of belief in it) to a Christian. It's funny how in the face of the unknown people immediately try to convert me. Point blank, that shit immediately offends me. So, I don’t argue. But in this case, I explained, and I discovered that another simple cure for misery is talking with a like mind. As I talked with that unknown yesterday, I felt my soul pour out through her words; I had a wry smile on my face throughout. Thank you for coming through.

I broke up with HER yesterday, and relinquished control of my world to the unknown.

The same unknown that I am sure created the world. I am a child of chance, a victim of fate. I have the power to take that step forward, but not the sight to see where it might lead me in the end. No matter what impending doom is around the corner, I have to take that step forward, I can only hope to move my arm and it moves.

Hope is all I got.

What else can I do?

This world is laced with wants, with greed laced with a false sense of need, with lust for unimportant and impermanent belongings, for definition from all of these factors that would otherwise be found in ourselves. Everything about this world we have created on top of the world given to us in the end simply fills another man's pocket with ill gotten gold, the pursuit of happiness is ultimately futile.

We are the very definition of happiness, our existence, Being is happiness.

The journey is realizing that singular truth.

The false pursuit of joy, of a lie, has made us ugly, fat, unhealthy, cancerous and miserable and we will die this way without reality. Without discovery, depending on everything but yourself to provide that smile on your face? Whose muscles do you use to widen that grin? To bear your pearly whites? Whose face is it that smiles? Is it not your own? So why depend on another source when the action is born in you alone? Why depend on another source for your joy? Such that when that person decides that the source of his joy has to change, you are left hanging from a cliff from which you will only tumble into a freaking state of dejectedness.

Do good and good will happen.

Give a smile, get a smile.

My soul speaks the loudest. My aura is what they feel. No matter the wrapper. What's underneath last's longer, the taste is savored, the energy shared, the gift translated.

I'm writing to the sound of my own voice. It's a profound experience for me. I had been told that I looked like I possessed some sort of vocal skill plenty times in my life but I always met the words with an incredulous stare. I underestimated myself.

I suddenly feel so powerful.

Being able to express my emotions through the one thing I love most in this world? Talking and Writing? You mean I can be on radio speaking softly into your ears? Caressing your soul? You mean, I can be that amazing dude on stage pulling people with words? What? Soon.

And Oprah. Fuck You. And your religion.


This world is empty.

Let's fill it up.

I’m just 21. Imagine me in 4 years.

May the grass be green under your feet.