Two pussies

One classy, low to mid thirties, long black dyed hair cut straight at the middle of her back, clean [visible] subtle makeup, burgundy lipstick and thin, nicely contoured eyebrows, long fake nails, dark glossy color polished, wearing a white synthetic fur jacket, dark pants and high heels, elegant ankle-high leather boots, carrying a dark leather designer handbag, probably bought in Italy or Paris, trying to get in touch with someone via an expensive hand-held smartphone and in the mean time carefully and rather stiffly navigating the half-ice, half-granite sidewalk.

A springy teen, maybe early 20’s or at least a junior college student on the opposite course, wearing an ass-hiding green winter jacket disregarding the fur trimmed hood and treading both on ice and granite with ease in her bright red to orange hair complementing Timberlands, carelessly heading back where the elegant woman came from.

Maybe to make the same mistakes. Maybe to learn a different lesson. Or none at all.
Maybe to fuck the same guy, now alone and waiting in his bachelor pad.

Selfie

David looks down at the girl sucking his giant, veiny penis. He likes the feeling but he doesn’t display it. He has been sucked better, he has been sucked worse, but this girl looked like she enjoys herself. Looked like she’s sucking it for her own satisfaction and not necessarily for his. This thought made him a little more interested in her efforts. Again, her did not manifest his inner feel and thought either way to the outside world.
After a while, as he was nearing the end of his Scotch and wanted to pour another, the girl’s sister came along. Apparently they wanted to get a selfie while they were both sucking the “monster” at the same time.
David reacted positively to the second girl’s request and snapped a dozen pictures with his phone camera of them two enjoying his penis. One at the top the other at the bottom; both on its top, both on the middle; one with her tongue on his abs… and all kind of poses and positions. All with him relaxing in his favorite leather chair in the living-room with his Scotch refilled by his trusty maid, never too far away. […]

Înviere

Cuvinte și noțiuni precum:
– Păcat
– Mântuire
– Înviere
– Viață veșnică
– Suflet

Aparțin unei lumi de dinainte de rațiune. Unei lumi a visului, a fricii de întuneric, dar nu ar trebui să fie luate ad litteram de atât de mulți oameni.
Religia este o cârjă a creierului uman primitiv care încă rezistă în locurile în care educația și cunoașterea sunt date deoparte cu bună știință sau din ignoranță voită.

Într-o lume în care zeii au evoluat de la a fi simplii noștri strămoși, de la a fi fenomene și obiecte din natura înconjurătoare la a fi supra-oameni, oameni în viață cu sânge albastru și apoi entități metafizice — imaginați-vă, doar, un univers bazat pe fizică, guvernat de o ființă deasupra fizicii. Trebuie o doză de ignoranță științifică pentru a nu sesiza disonanța acestei noțiuni — suntem la fel de aproape de evii primordiali ai fricii de întunericul nopții și acum, când citim lucrul ăsta pe un display de smartphone sau pe un laptop.

Frica e o unealtă cu care sunt controlați oamenii care simt că au ceva de pierdut. Frica înlănțuie oamenii, din secunda în care aud de cutare și cutare zeu sau dumnezeu până când, inevitabila reîntoarcere la starea de dinainte de a se naște le contrazice pe toate acele povești.

Trăiți-vă orele, zilele și anii sub soare, că sunteți scântei zburate dintr-un soare și din mai mulți sori ce l-au precedat pe acesta. Sunteți materie și energie, iar energia nu se pierde niciodată, ci doar se transformă. Să inventezi povești și să le conferi atribut de adevăr absolut, e doar amăgire.
Iar Dumnezeu sigur nu vrea să vă amăgiți.
Iar eu, EU sunt aici pentru tradiții și pentru cultură. Pentru prieteni și pentru familie. În general pentru că e frumos să fii.

După Amiază

[RO]
Stau în soarele blând al după-amiezii, la o cafenea deschisă, cu o fată frumoasă, bând o cafea imensă. Vorbim, râdem, îi ating ușor mâna peste masa de sticlă, pe ramă de fier forjat, rotundă și nu foarte lată.
Are mâini mici, fine. Par scoase din marmură albă, cioplite și șlefuite de unelte minuscule. Pentru a contrasta cu albul mâinilor, poartă ojă de un roșu intens, lac ce reflectă, într-o paletă distorsionată, dar fără a adăuga un cuvânt la miturile acestora, cerurile de deasupra.

La început a fost tăcută, poate timidă, poate ne-cafeinizată. Acum, vorbește despre atât de multe lucruri deodată, încât mă văd nevoit să mă las în derivă pe mările adânci ale ochilor săi, incapabil să țin pasul cu elocvența și debitul ideilor și temelor pe care mi le expune.

Încă sunt fascinat de frumusețea, tandrețea și spiritualitatea acestei ființe trimise de ceruri în calea mea. Îmi fumez trabucul în tăcută contemplare. Pare atât de îndrăgostită de imaginea pe care o proiectez în mod voit. Este divină și pură.
[…]
Apoi mergem acasă la mine și ne futem ca iepurii sălbatici.

 

 

[EN]

Sitting in the mild sun of the afternoon at an open cafe, with a beautiful girl, having a big cup of coffee. Talking and laughing, gently touching her hand across the table — the table top is made of matte glass on a forged iron frame, round in shape and not too wide.
She has small, fine hands. They look like made of marble, but chiseled and smoothened with minuscule tools.
To contrast the whiteness of her hands, she wears and intensively bright red nail polish. The lacquer reflects the sky above into a distorted color pallette but without adding a word to their mythology.

She used to be silent at first, maybe shying away, maybe uncaffeinated.
Now she’s talking about so many subjects at once and I’m seeing myself required to drift into the dark seas of her eyes unable to keep pace with her eloquence and flood of ideas and topics.

I’m still amazed by the beauty, tenderness and wit of this heaven-sent being. I’m smoking my cigar in silent contemplation as she seems so in love with the image I consciously project. She is divine and pure.
[…]
Then we go home and fuck like wild dogs.

Women

Put two women together and at one point they’ll realize either they hate each other or they love each other.
In some situations, they’ll even get to fuck… I mean “experiment”, even if they’re primarily straight.
I don’t know to explain this. There are people who think – based on research – that women are more promiscuous, more adventurous. Their genetic predisposition is to secure a suitable mate and if by this it means fucking an entire city, then they’ll assume it.
But the suitable mate doesn’t have a gender label attached to the wrist. Therefore, in their exploration, women might get to realize that there’s no actual definitive to that. The suitable mate can very well be a female.
From an evolutionary perspective this explains why our first social structures were matriarchal. Women tended to use males for reproduction and not for soul-bounding or family establishment. Those were developed later on by the patriarchal society.
Anyway, put two women together for a while and observe. You’ll love it.

Alone

Sometimes, you have to just lose yourself. Lose your train of thoughts. Lose your worries and your reason. You just have to be there for yourself, cause it’s an age-old truth that no one else will be. Everybody has his or her agenda and your place on it might be subjected to the moment’s interest.
People usually find excuses for not being there for you. Those excuses may very well be based on reality, on actual anchors, but human behavioral sciences proves the vast majority of such excuses are invented.
One politely says “I can’t” instead of saying what is actually on their mind: “I don’t want to”.
Therefore, start accepting the obvious: You’re all alone in this shit.
The other option is usually out of hand for most people, as they can’t even manipulate their own lives let alone others’.

I dare dreaming

I dream at the day when I’ll have my own house. With no one to perturb my sleep or my silence. Where roommates will not bring home fuck bitches that scream in a house where they know they’re not alone nor use my skincare products nor eat my food and drink my liquor.
I dream also at a day when my roommate’s brother won’t bring fuck bitches to the place he does not reside at. He couldn’t get them to where he resides anyways, as he’s married with little children.

I also dream at the day when I’ll have my own home. The house I’ve designed with my own hand and pen. The place could be here or away. It wouldn’t matter where, but it should make me love it and have a desire to stay.

The house that I dream at is home for my wife. And I dream she (whosoever “she” might be) would bear my children to make me immortal.

I am, but, afraid that’s a flickering dream. As I might not have time to stay. It may come the moment that takes me away. I feel it closer in each passing day.

[…]

I also have a dream that there’s more to be seen. That this isn’t the whole experience for me.

I dream of sitting outside in the Sun, on a terrace, at a table under a vine and share with the world a bit of my soul and bits of my dreams, most likely in writ form. But the white villa is just a dream. The courtyard ran by my children, as well — an illusion.
A future ? — A human desire programmed in my genes and spurred by society and culture.

Some dreams, as much as you would want them to be true, to make them real, are not at all meant to be. I think.

Fucking

It is very important, if not essential, to fuck. Entangled in the illusions and delusions of a “civil” society and seeking to achieve “higher” goals, one tends to forget this basic truth. Or if not forget it, then disregard it as primitive behavior.
But, fucking is the ultimate key to a suit of problems otherwise occurring if abstinence is practiced. From physical to psychological and neurological benefits, fucking is having a concrete effect on humans and in extent, on all higher apes that practice it for recreational purposes as well.
So, you see, whenever your behavior tends to be erratic, whenever you feel the entire weight of the world pushing down on your shoulders as the dome of the heavens pushing on Atlases shoulders, remember the easy solution, almost ubiquitous in our environment: FUCK !

Also, maybe as a footnote: don’t just fuck according to a predetermined schedule. Don’t do it like a chore or something that has to be done with. Do it for the benefits, you stupid ape !

Abused

I’ve been cold — still am.

I’ve been hungry — still am.

I’ve had a million fears — still keep a few.

I’ve been abused by people who supposedly had to help, guide and protect me — still am [different person, though].

I’ve had no other evolution other than a financial one. A minor improvement if you like.
Is my life a bubble ? Do I really have to spin aimlessly in the same pond ?
Isn’t my horizon open to any depth ?
Of course, I’m not trying hard enough. And in the right direction. But this proves half of the theory.
The other half is why do people keep abusing me ? Could I be the one to blame ? Could it be that I’m too good ?
Actually, this might prove the be a rhetorical question. Of course I’m too good.

Realities

Given the fact that there are currently 7 billion realities on the planet alone with one other reality residing above all else, I don’t see a need to conform. I clearly see WHY I should conform, but I do not.
In my reality as it is now, I have a lot of what myself from 10 years ago wanted. A lot of what myself of 4 years ago wanted. Nothing of what myself from now wants. NOTHING!
If I learn something from this reality is that tomorrow I’ll have what I want today.
Realities alter with every passing moment in time. And I prefer altering it with either drugs or alcohol. Or both.