It is a study in contrast. If we were to statistically check, many of Single in the City’s postings have some sexual overtone and my own some sort of emotional overtone. Yet in terms of sexual roles, we’re on opposite poles. How interesting.
I terribly miss my Siberian Brown Snow Tiger, he’s safely tucked in the dark white north of Canada. I almost can’t stand to hear his voice. I want his brownish here and now. It’s not for sex in the least, I’m just happy knowing he’s here, we’re together, the dark brown purr from deep within my brown sheets (which he picked, brown on brown, tiger camouflage). It’s what I crave the most. The get naked and do it, I have to admit, is mainly theatrics to keep him happy.
I self canceled my trip this week. Snow in the forecast, fuck that shit, I’m not battling roadways and flight delays to sit with some morons in a conference room. That’s what Alexander Graham Bell invented the telephone, so you didn’t have to even see them. I go on mute and vacuum the house. I am immersed in office politics. Petty people, fighting trivial battles about, meaningless shit, I spend my day with people that I not only dislike, but hope never see again ever for no reason.
I am sure these are nice people, with good values and want proper things to happen in their life. But yet we spend an incredible amount of time doing things we don’t enjoy, with no real end game and no real purpose. But we all play the game. Why?
We should all not be envious or jealous, but instead awed by those among us who have found a higher meaning in life. To do the things they want to do, to see and be who they want to be. Kenny, a name long since forgotten, god love him, he took off on a round the world trip, the true adventurer, generating memories for himself. TC is also an adventurer, looking for those things that truly motivate him.
Why can’t I find this? It’s simple. I’m far too conventional. Caught up in the daily grind unable to escape the stones as it twists away. I am not only in the rat race, I am the rat race.
I’d of hoped that my whole stage of achieving full-blown faggotry would have helped me blow thru the roof. But no, I am a big dark hairy unwashed pussy. Stinking and oozing. Despicable and nasty. I am rotting from the interior. I am stuck in endless self examination, slowly becoming self absorbed, I wait for you to pause so I can tell you about me. I have become a Facebook Fag. God help us all.