25 May, 2004 - 21:20

I think that I have a big issue with love.

It really needs to be dealt with.

I'm sure I was shown what love is when I was a child, but for some reason after I've grown up into a man, that sense of personal love is gone. Or it's found a small hiding place.

I rediscovered it a couple of times and it was so wonderful to have it, yet so fleeting.

So now I feel like I'm on a quest. Not really a quest with a map, rules, lines of latitude or longitude but rather a quest going deep, deep inside myself to find that love again.

(I sound so much like that Jim Cunningham character on Donnie Darko, and if it weren't for his kiddie porn habit I might just buy some of what he was saying at this point)

And I realise that everyone is looking for it in whatever way we can.

And I know that I had been looking for it in putrid-smelling dark rooms in saunas, sex cinemas and fetish-ridden corners of the internet.

And all I found was that I got off.

I shot some cum.

On

faces

in an ass

on myself

in a few mouths

on the floor

onto clean, white sheets

into a garbage can

SO MUCH SO, that the line between someone's mouth and a garbage can are now blurred. They are the same thing: receptacles to deposit something into.

Do I get turned on by love? I did for a split second in life.

I did because I was so aroused in my whole cosmological bouquet of senses when I was with someone that I loved that it was impossible to think of receptacle-ising anything. Even with friends. Now I feel like my emotional attachment with so many people has the potential to fit inside a shoebox.

Regardless of any result.

Regardless of postive.

Regardless of negative.

I gotta get out of here.