I’m back again in my fucking unreal world. I’m talking to my ghosts and shadows. I was used to live here and I didn’t feel alone. But now, I don’t want to sleep with ghosts: ghosts and fantasies are so pretty and sexy because they always always let me lead the dance but I just want to sleep with a human being in flesh and blood.
My mind is a curious and funny and sometimes scaring place. There are many things, there are desires. Wild, weird, tender, kinky desires. Actually, I can’t say if they’re more tender or more kinky.
There’s me fucking my man/boy. There’s me saying filthy words to him, there’s him looking at me from below and whispering “please”. I get wet for this little word, like for nothing else in the world.
(I heard “please” in a warm summer night and I thought to have found some kind of this strange kinky-love in the eyes of a stranger. Of course, I was wrong. It makes no sense at all but sometimes that’s still hurts).
Non so perchè il terzo post m’è venuto fuori così, in quest’inglese rimediato e internettiano, figlio di troppi blog feministi-queer-bdsm e troppe nottate porno in solitaria.
O a lo mejor ha sido porque he empezado a escribirlo para ti solo, neno, y he elegido casi sin querer un idioma que no fuera el mio ni el tuyo.
Please… and thanks… unfortunedly there are too many scary minds. There, inside themself, dark places where to stay, where to hide, where to find some strange kind of worrying peace. Unfortunedly, life’s mirrors get sometimes darker and distorted than life itself, and by no way can the person itself know what reallity is, what in this reflected image comes directly from reallity and what comes just from a reflected reflection.
I’m just glad for a gift. Beacause letting people get into the inside garden, even throught difficult paths, is always a great gift difficult to pay back. Just hope the person to whom you wrote this down is higher enought to pay you back for your big gift.
One more time: Thank you.