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“Infatuation fades with time. All it requires is self-denial and a bit of patience. Rub one out if you must. Desire lives on, but occasional targets of lust are transient…”


My one eye has been pulsating again and I feel the tension growing in me. Daydreaming is increasing. Anger has been floating to the surface. Insomnia persists. I just feel so twitchy and this is all too familiar. Why all of a sudden? Why do I always find my way back here?


Two beers and a bowl, rub one out and listen to some hypnosis videos for sleep — and still I hit the sack just to bounce back. This is as bad as sleeping sober. I’m out like a light, sure, but for a few hours at best. I awaken to find my relentless mind still chat-chat-chattering away, thoughts occasionally slicing through my head like goddamned razor blades.

I need to start meditating again; this is ridiculous.


Full disclosure, I’ve been horny as fuck lately, too, which is perhaps tied to the tension issue. Daily masturbation does not circumvent this, as I keep finding my eyes nearly swallowing hot women.

The eye goes: twitch.

Their eyes, figures, ass — that yoga pants are currently in fashion does not help matters, either. Not that I’m complaining about yoga pants at all, understand. I just don’t like being a fucking pervert, that’s all, and this is what I’ve become yet again.

It’s been over five years by now, so maybe my dumb ass should just focus on getting laid again, but I am not qualified to be anything beyond a fuck buddy, and that shit never, ever turns out well, and that makes it utterly unethical.

“This, too, shall pass away.”

And in the meantime it will drive me stark-raving mad.


Then there’s her. A girl. Young yet perfectly legal, beautiful, deep eyes and a calm air about her. We shared a cigarette the other day and I finally got to talk to her and she confirmed my suspicions: she is one hell of an interesting, dark soul. It seems as though she might also be more than mildly psychopathic, which is perhaps why she is so calming to me: an emotional sponge such as myself need not fear empathic overload where there are just basic emotions to be receptive to.

But this? This will turn out to be nothing, mark my words, just as it has with quite a few girls. I relinquished myself from the game a good time ago. I’m just no good at this. Psychologically-speaking, being alone is my natural state. I simply cannot be part of a unit. So she’ll kill me inside for awhile but in all likelihood will fail to draw me in.

So it fucking goes.


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