It is indeed. I understand nothing.
I have an authority problem.
I have issues.
I also have many cats.
I want to go and hide somewhere so that I don't have to talk to people anymore.
I want to shave my head and wear on it a pot with flowers.
I want to fuck half a million people.
I don't want to fuck anyone ever again. Safe, my head screams. You're safe. You must be crazy to want to get in trouble again. Think of what can go wrong. Pregnancy, disease, falling in love and losing control, getting hurt. You're safe in this place of non- action. And all this danger, all this risk, for what? Getting sex that you don't even enjoy? You must be mad.
Indeed. But I may change my mind in a month or ten minutes from now. And I probably will.
All this thinking gets me tired and depressed and gets nothing done.
If you ask me what I want to do, the answer is never again get involved with anyone on any level.
If pigs had wings they would fly. Naturally.
It's almost hilarious.
I am running away again. At maximum speed.
I wish I was more consistent in the way I feel.
I wish I was uncaring.
I must discover a different way of being and feeling.
I am a member in thealterium.com, an alternative social network. Like Facebook but with no censorship. Nudity is allowed, in fact encouraged. They are pretty much nice guys and girls there. But the roles I can play are limited. Yes, yes, yes, I can put pictures of my ass and get many flattering comments. But I am not an ass, or a pair of boobs, or my vagina. I am a human being. There is so much more to a human being than just body parts.
The game is played with flawed rules.
I refuse to play the game with such rules.
And then I wonder why I feel I lack something and what am I doing wrong, as the game can only be played with the aforesaid rules.
Stupid, stupid, stupid. And so tired I feel someone turned me upside down and emptied my very soul out of my body.
It's your fault.
I can think of three people I can accuse for my present state of being. But accusing others for where you stand is just silly. If you don't like it go somewhere else.
I need to get more tattoos done on me. They won't help me resolve my confusion, but they may prevent me from getting laid, or even help me get laid. I am not sure what would be worse at this point.
[All the above can be concentrated in ONE word: scared.]