Funny Mental

The cold wind lays waste to my self-esteem, yet still I endure. I walk through the town, a shadow of God, but no demon will touch me. I beg them, please lay me to waste, but my pleas go unanswered. I can not even count on one mortal man to fuel my destruction, though they are out there, I know, most likely in the places I refuse to go. Why am I so picky? If all I want is someone bad, for what reason do I avoid the worst of them all? Am I stupid enough to believe love is still possible? No one has ever loved me before, so why would anyone love me now? When some pervert looks at my ass, does he decide that fucking me would be too much like kicking a puppy? So many questions I can't answer. Thinking of possible replies excites me as I make my way through the crowd, and I use a rolled-up newpsper to rub my crotch, unnoticed by passersby. The eyes of the crowd are fixated straight ahead as I let the newspaper drop, and my hand continues its motion over my genitals. Madness? I feel like I'm 16 again, and I swear I hear a voice whisper in my ear...don't stop now. A part of me, small, timid, frightened, says I have to pull back now; remember who you are, but all is lost to the moment, and soon what I am doing would be obvious to anyone who bothered to pay attention, but no one does. The zipper goes down... the cock comes out...I can't control myself for a minute or so, then sanity returns, and I stuff my penis back in my pants, then scurry off. No one pays attention to me, and I don't know what to think. I am panting heavily as a handsome young man passes by, and for a second our eyes meet...then he is gone, a single wave in a sea of humanity. I rip my shirt and scream, and there is a brief reaction from the crowd, when, as one, they stare at me; then they all look away and pass on, and I stand there, certain that I have lost my mind. I find my newspaper, then go to a nearby bench to read it. It comforts me that I have retained enough of my intellect that I can comprehend the words, then for no reason I rip up the paper and start to cry. If anyone notices, they do so privately, for they continue their steady march, as if I had never been there at all. 111111111112+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++........03333333333333333333333333333333333333333333333+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++