Fucked Up and Stupid, part XLVII

sorabji.com: Sex: Fucked Up and Stupid, part XLVII

The King of Romance on Monday, October 5, 1998 - 03:53 pm:

    See, this is how it works:

    You don't even care anymore, to tell you the truth, and why should you anyway?
    What's the benefit to you? All that stupid shit that happened before has finally brought
    you to this space in time. This moment. This second. It's what we call the Present. And
    nevermind the philosopher who will tell you that the present does not exist. We already
    know the present doesn't exist, because, as soon as you label it as such, it's already the
    Past. But, who gives a fuck?!? That doesn't change what we're talking about... and what
    the fuck were we talking about, anyway?

    Oh, yes! This moment! This moment, for whatever reason, has arrived. And here
    you are. And here she is.

    Okay, so you don't know each other, right? And, to be honest, if you did know
    each other, you probably wouldn't like each other. So, it's probably a good thing you
    don't know each other. But, it's at that point, you know? It's at that point where the night
    has gone on way too long and you find yourself back at your apartment and you can't
    fucking believe she agreed to come back with you and she asks for a drink and you don't
    have anything, so you have to give her water, and she wants to smoke, which you find
    disgusting, but you don't say anything because, well....fuck, just because!

    So, she lights up and you sit there like a couple of idiots...not saying anything
    because there's nothing to say...looking at each other and then looking away. And you're
    choking on the smoke and trying not to show it and she's not even pretending to drink the
    water anymore and it all seems pretty pointless and absurd. You feel like you're in a
    fucking Harold Pinter play because neither of you has said a fucking word for fifteen
    fucking minutes. You can hear the clock ticking your life away and you want to go to
    bed...to sleep...just let this night fucking END!!!

    And then you're kissing.

    It's funny how that happens. One second you won't be kissing and then, the next
    second, you will. And you're all the fuck over each other and she reeks like cigarettes and
    it makes you want to puke and you can't imagine what awful things she must be thinking
    about you considering that you've been wearing the same clothes for three days and you're
    all sweaty and gross and, hey, would it kill you to do a sit-up now and then?! But it
    doesn't matter. Nothing matters. Nothing but buttons and zips and stockings and shoes.
    And then naked flesh. And it's probably a good thing the lights aren't on, don't you agree?

    Neither of you really wants to be here, but what else is there to do? Where else
    you gonna go? You're both here. In this room. Right now.

    So you end up going down on her on the couch at three in the fucking morning.

    And the whole time you're doing it, you're wishing you could be anywhere but here
    with anyone but her. It's taking far too long and all you can taste is cigarettes and you feel
    like you're not doing a very good job until finally...FINALLY!!! she climaxes and you can
    fucking stop! And you wish you could throw her out so you can go to bed, or, better yet,
    you wish it were HER apartment so you could just fucking LEAVE! But it's not and you
    can't. So, instead, you have to endure the worst blowjob of your entire fucking life and
    somehow manage to CUM so as not to be rude or give offense, but it's just not happening
    because you're not into it because you don't love her -- you don't even like her... And all
    you can think about is that you're just not cut out to be a swinger and how badly you wish
    you were with your girlfriend instead of here with a stranger and just how fucked up and
    stupid everything is.

    When you finally cum, you hardly even feel it and you wonder if it was the same
    for her. And you both just sort of lie there. And she lights another cigarette...slowly
    inhales...exhales... inhales....exhales...

    "Wow," she says. "That was awesome." But you know she's lying.

    "Yeah," you say. "Awesome."

    It's a lie. But who cares? And, in the darkness, you begin to think about the future.
    You think about her leaving. And you think about sleeping. And you think about your
    girlfriend and what you should say to her. And maybe she'll forgive you. And maybe you'll
    be able to forget this ever happened.

    But the future is so far away. You're still stuck here in the present. Stuck in the
    present, which used to be your future. And your future/present just isn't anything like you
    thought it would be in the past. The present is a girl smoking cigarettes on your couch.
    You watch the embers glow as she takes a long drag off her cigarette. When she stops,
    the embers fade. You count to yourself, "one, two, three..." She exhales a stream of
    smoke which billows out into the room and then dissipates into nothing.

    And you feel so incredibly fucking alone.

By Pembridge on Monday, October 5, 1998 - 11:34 pm:


    Except the part about having a girlfriend to worry about forgiving you.

By Bill on Tuesday, October 6, 1998 - 12:41 am:


By Ha Ha on Tuesday, October 6, 1998 - 09:35 am:

    Loneliness and heart break are my only friends.

By Gary on Friday, June 4, 1999 - 07:15 pm:

    All I can say is whoever wrote this is a genuis, and the girlfriend never forgives..

By R.C. on Saturday, June 5, 1999 - 07:13 pm:

    What sort of woman's twat tatses like cigarettes?

    Was this chick named Monica perchance?

    But if it was his crib/why'd they do it on the couch? Wait, I get it -- if he hasn't changed clothes in 3 days/then yr sheets probably haven't been changed in 3 or 4 mos.

    (And the girlfriend needn't forgive what she never finds out abt.)

    But it was very effective caveat against picking up random smokers.

By Cyst on Sunday, June 6, 1999 - 10:01 am:

    maybe his mouth still tasted of cigarettes from kissing her.

By Markus on Sunday, June 6, 1999 - 09:06 pm:

    If you're really interested, I think a good number of this sort of woman could be found in the port towns of Thailand and the PI. Ask any sailor who's been to a cultural show for directions.

By Accustat on Monday, June 7, 1999 - 01:10 pm:

    fucked up and stupid, your love is out of town, swooning, old japanese men with lots of money to spend on her company, she is in the one big city and i in the other, only my end doesn't seem so big.....quite quiet actually, i have watched all 5 planet of the apes and i have come to sympathize with Cornelius in so many ways. I look at the clock, i just masturbated only an hour ago, give it some more time, take another hit and light another smoke, "how's your beer doing?" my beautiful bar tender asks (ME)...fine i say...all of my blokes are parked in front of a TV watching stupid-assed basketball in their boring new carpeted homes, (did the Nicks have their ankle-units on?). I want hockey, I wanna see the stanley cup, but no such luck. I have no girlfriends to have coffee and play cards with and my lover likes it that way, not that she has cause for alarm, but she tacitly likes it that way nonetheless. maybe i could think of my next fantasy, the heat from my crotch has started to subside, no wait, erratic, another hit please.......my bowl needs......wait idiot those are ashes.....damn lighter is out, only my zippo, like the butane taste, now where did she hide those coedine pills, damn it cats i said i would clean your box tommorow, stop following me, oh but your so cute, wait, maybe i could find some good porn on the inter....no wait, thats so passe', boring boring, it's a run around game...stick to your mind boy, ah yes, those mirrors last time really had an effect.....yes see thats more like it, fucked up and stupid right.........


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