From Asia with love and squalor

So it’s early morning. I’m sitting here thinking, here I am again feeling the need to write my thoughts. Writing is like therapy, I suppose.  I admit I’m feeling bored and lonely and I want to seek out. But how? Where? I’m having fuck up thoughts. Somebody get me out of these doldrums! I want to trade aesthetics profanities.. a witty exchange. Somebody to suit my  cravings for an intellectually stimulating conversation.  One who can can satisfy my desire; physical entwines,  limbs supinely seeking. The thoughts of spooning drives me insanely longing.

I’m feeling envious at some. I’m saddled with no one. American in my  mind, where are you? I want to lean back, fall in the arms of pleasure and comfort and sanity. Damn it! The longer it goes, the more I crave.

I told myself before the year end… there will be one.  I need to do something. But what?  When? How to go about finding the match.  The right one.  I’m doing a lot… which seems to be a lot of nothing.  I’m trying. Really, I am.  Come be with me and be my love and we shall live in satiating bliss.

Ugh! This post is going down the drain of  sucky mush and I don’t  care!

I’m longing. I want to feel! I need a man!


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