Tuesday, December 24, 2013
Art by Xiao Bai
Fuck me. Fuck me standing, sitting, lying, in any position possible, fuck me like you mean it, like we won't live to see another day. Fuck me hard, fuck me gently, fuck my brain for weeks before you seduce me out of my clothes. Fuck me by the way you touch your glass, fuck me by the way you play with your cufflinks while talking about your life. Fuck me with my clothes on because you smile that evil smile of yours and I melt to see it addressed to me only. Fuck me by getting up and moving into my space, asking me to dance with you, while your clean body’s scent makes my knees turn into jelly. Fuck me anywhere you want. Fuck me till I beg, fuck me till neither of us can move, fuck me until even fetching a glass of water means one of us crawling on all fours because walking is impossible. Fuck me until reality breaks down into pixels and colours explode inside our heads and when we try to talk we speak in tongues and all we can do is cry in each other's arms. Bite me, suck me, lick me, kiss me, eat me, tell me how good I taste, look at me with irrational wanting, like I’m the only person left on earth. Let me worship every square inch of your body with my mouth and my fingers. Let me hear you yell until the neighbours jump out of their beds in fright. Let me feel your fingers in my hair, hear your sharp gasp as you orgasm. Let me hear your breath catch in your throat as I lower your zipper with my eyes full of murder, feel your pulse race under my fingertips. Fuck me raw. Fuck me on all fours while strangling me and biting my back, fuck me slowly as I lower myself on you again and again, taking you in, keeping you my willing prisoner. Fuck me in bed, in the kitchen, in a public library, in the bar's toilet, in a back alley. Fuck me because you can second-guess me accurately enough to be frightening. Fuck me and let me drink from your sweet blood and seed and saliva like I am having communion from the living body of my personal Christ and saviour.
Be mine, be mine, be mine.
Saturday, December 21, 2013
Art taken from here
I am sad tonight.
It is silly to be sad about what doesn't matter.
It's silly to be sad about movies, books, music.
Those three things make me sad more than anything else.
Sadness is nothing but chemicals. The brains experiences a stimulus, gives the order to the appropriate glands, they saturate your blood in chemicals. Our very own tailor-made, fit to perfection drugs.
There you go, dear. Have a cuppa. All yours, choke on it.
Drink it down to the last drop.
I have no protection against art.
People I have protection against.
Art, I don't.
Biggest night of the year. Darkness knows no end tonight.
I am not afraid of darkness. It is a caress, a luxury, a friend.
There's a kitten in a box near my feet.
I don't know if he'll survive the night.
Let's hope it does.