Spirit (daimones) wrote,

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It wasn't all sex, but it was mostly, cos that was the only thing I was good at. Some people are good at football, or chess, or singing, but my thing's being able to make folk melt. Guys and girls spilling between my fingers like ice-cream. .. And that's how they taste. I could never understand (him), or others since, saying that they'd never go down on their girlfriends, or moaning about how they'd never swallow, when I get kind of drunk on (it). All these bodily fluids are like delicious liqueurs to me - apple sap or honeysuckle. Skin's like meat or sweeties. Some nights I finish, I feel like I've been at a feast.

It doesn't take much to get me in a sweat over someone - a wink of vulnerability, a twitch, anything, from a choice of cufflinks to how they hold their knife and fork, almost always one wee thing about them that you'll find utterly overwhelming, and suddenly your daydreams are crowded with these folk who, on first look, seem completely unremarkable, or shitty, or savage, but who're in fact full of light. What I understand now, lying here dying, is that the undjudgemental quality I have is maybe the greatest gift of all.

Foolish thing, but thinking, as they were kicking the shit out of me: If I could just get my hands or lips on their cocks, they'd melt and I'd be off.

I loved where we were, St Giles, Covenant Garden, Soho. Models walking all about, good shops and cafes, and this air of tolerance too, what with so many gay bars around. You hear all the time it's the centre of London's gay scene, but the more gay folk you got to know, the more you'd see there was no scene. It's called the scene by the same lot that uses expressions like black culture and women's issues. Twats.

Folk think cos they've paid the hourly rate they can treat you like a doormat, and sometimes that's where the biggest thrill is. True love'll open the skies, but so will agony. The things I've seen while being pissed on, whipped, smeared, burned, battered, and stabbed. Maybe that was the martyr’s ace. Even as the nails were driven into their hands, or flames fried the life out them, they'd see the sky peeled back, death, ironically enough, the best sex ever, as the full on glory of Heaven made ecstasy of their suffering.

You can look but you better not touch. I bit my tongue. Called her Mary Magdalene under my breath.

Unrequited love. Again. But she'd made me greater with nothing more than looks and words.

All these souls in agony. More than once I thought about skipping across the rooftops, slipping into their homes, screwing all the hurt and hate out of them.

Gigs and orgies galore cos every alternative teen was suddenly bi-curious. Kurt Cobain all over front pages as the ultimate Madonna-whore. But still this feeling of not quite connecting.

She looked as sad as a shooting star.

(all of these came from a book Venus As A Boy by Luke Sutherland. A very good read.)

http://www.propeller-island.com/rooms_neu/room_detail/01/index.php <- Great hotel. Needs must I Go.

"I've met a couple of people from Indiana. They were all deeply troubled but appeared to be normal. Does that describe the situation from your point of view?"

Her teeth clicked together. She could not decided whether to slap him or kiss him again. In the end she choose the later. It was sweeter, and he was too perfectly unreasonable to argue with.

Oivey. We'll wrap this up quick like.

Bri's birthday came and went, I think she enjoyed it. I got her lingerie, which some of the birthday party that we threw for her got to see. Is pretty. I want to show off her dress...The party was great, good food, good times. Was nice. Met Mandy, quinbit's girl. Very quiet, but she makes quinbit happy. And it suits quinbit, I think. Hrm. Bri enjoyed her other gifts, I know. She also apparently really enjoyed the potato salad..or coleslaw? I dun remember. ;)

After birthday party of joy, went out to wander the town, enjoy the scene, that sort of thing. Ended up park place grill downtown. I felt a bit out of place there. A bit to 'upscale' for me, sadly. But they had GREAT French onion soup. Dun think the entrees were worth ~20 a plate though. Music was good, though. Spent some time walking through parks, looked at pretty lights in front of the civic theatre...

And now it's tonight. Was trying to do dishes with Bri, the dishes attacked. Sliced up Bri's finger pretty bad, thought maybe we'd have to get stitches...but no. 3 cuts, one finger. She's sleeping now. Dishes aren't all done, but I managed to do some before lack of food, headache, and sleepy hit me. If I hadn't had spent so much time watching Die Hard with a Vengeance on TNT...=) I'm just glad Bri's okay.

Oh. Also ate one of these tonight. Is really good!

When I have more brains about me, I need to post about how I feel like words are slipping away from me, and an ode to a couple of people who make my life livable.

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