* Photo by: Carlos Nunez There’s something naughty about masturbating in the attic of your parent’s house. Some would call it an improper see-saw of sour masculinity, but you don’t mind that much, when you’re in the process of losing your sanity over all the horrible illusions you’ve got clouding the head. Instead there’s just the blurring of the outer senses. You sit stationary and find a sort of rocking motion that fits the physique you’ve got patterned in the bones like a Marie Curie science experiment. Then you slide fingers towards the explosive, and play a rat race in the bush of your own development. It’s really not all that awful. It’s just something hungry to pass the time. You do this, like you pour yourself a glass of water. It is there and then it isn’t. You are all action, and you constantly want to feel the pain of something you have some control over. What’s sad though, is that a lot of the time, you don’t pretend to be with anyone else. You just clear the mind and let colors fall in and out. Behind the eyelids, there is this darkened chart of what it is you need to do with the rest of your day. Things waiting to get accomplished, sit around like dirty dishes. You pout and clean their glass-like shell of insecurity. The volcanic lava doesn’t come due to the imagining of the body. It often just comes, due to that epiphany you continually find time and time again. You know and feel this. Click for high-res image

* Photo by: Carlos Nunez

There’s something naughty about masturbating in the attic of your parent’s house. Some would call it an improper see-saw of sour masculinity, but you don’t mind that much, when you’re in the process of losing your sanity over all the horrible illusions you’ve got clouding the head. Instead there’s just the blurring of the outer senses. You sit stationary and find a sort of rocking motion that fits the physique you’ve got patterned in the bones like a Marie Curie science experiment. Then you slide fingers towards the explosive, and play a rat race in the bush of your own development. It’s really not all that awful. It’s just something hungry to pass the time. You do this, like you pour yourself a glass of water. It is there and then it isn’t. You are all action, and you constantly want to feel the pain of something you have some control over.

What’s sad though, is that a lot of the time, you don’t pretend to be with anyone else. You just clear the mind and let colors fall in and out. Behind the eyelids, there is this darkened chart of what it is you need to do with the rest of your day. Things waiting to get accomplished, sit around like dirty dishes. You pout and clean their glass-like shell of insecurity. The volcanic lava doesn’t come due to the imagining of the body. It often just comes, due to that epiphany you continually find time and time again. You know and feel this.

Posted on November 7, 2011 at 9:35pm with 4 notes

Post Notes

  1. insomniagirl posted this