Still no cheap beds at Hostal Moneda. Guess I'll stay on at Cactus for the rest of the visit.
I have an online acquaintance, rapidly becoming an online friend, whose blog reveals a mind and a heart very deep, beautiful, and flowing with powerful emotional currents. I'm thinking about giving up chasing blindly after sex, which isn't working anyway, and instead building relationships with people like this, people I can respect and can communicate with openly and honestly.
And yet, there's that nagging sex drive always getting in the way of my hifalutin ideals. It's this condition that drives people into the sex contract called marriage, which then begins to destroy them. If love is going to last, it will last with or without the contract. If it doesn't last, of if it turns into a nonsexual love, that contract becomes a ball and chain to both parties. Maybe we were meant to experience this misery. Well, I've been there, done that, got the scars. Bring on the new age. Let's all get naked, physically and verbally, and quit playing these mindgames. While it may be true that sexual frustration has been the stimulus for a lot of beautiful art, sexual release allows me to focus on my creative work, such as programming and permaculture experiments.
Meanwhile, until I find or found such a paradise, I'm going to strut my stuff in my Matrix suit. I'll be the cock of the walk. No more begging for female companionship: I'll be myself, and the right women will find me, talk to me, fall in love with me, and gladly share their bodies with mine. Yeah, right. Dream on, brother. Well, it's a nice fantasy anyway. I got a hard-on just thinking about it.
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last updated 2013-01-10 20:38:30. served from tektonic