Beautiful, simply beautiful the way your body quivers beneath me
Sound muted...no clemancy from pleasure mixed sweetly with pain
Skin flushed with ecstasy, shades of sensual euphoria
Eyes wide shut, taken in everything, seeing nothing
Involuntary utterances of a crescendo of profanity on the cusp of la petite la mort
I have of late taken the view that no matter how rebellious, unconventional, non-conformist we would like to think ourselves, we are at some point always part of a similar grouping of people. We are never truly leaders, but followers. Followers, I prefer to refer to us as sheep; because at one point or another in our life we are all sheep. This is a place to express myself, vent my frustration with the sheepdom, and relieve my boredom. It is my therapy for all that contributes to my neurosis.
Monday, January 9, 2012
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