Losing My Way

I had to write something, anything, just to know I could still put words together, whether they make sense at all. Should I try to avoid using the word penis? I really shoud but I CAN'T. Gotta talk about cock, in my mouth, up my ass, o sweet cock I want you so bad... Why do I do this? I feel my penis getting hard and I want to touch it, even in the public place I'm in, and I'm compelled to let it rub against the bottom of a table and now my hand must reach down and...NO DON'T...o but YES I needed to sqqueeze it. I want to think about a naked man the next time I hear Atom Heart Mother by Pink Floyd, and how I kneel before him and take his cock in my hand, lick his manhood before I put it in my mouth. He is the master I long for as I masturbate, hard as the cock I want up my ass. O Lord, it seems all I dois write book reviews and queer fantasy; my brain can only handle gay porn it seems like. WHO could make my dreams come true? Will have to stop doing this.

I'm a cock loving slut/ and I like it up the butt/ Yea a cock loving slut/ who's gotta take it up the butt// You have got what it takes/ the sight of your penis makes my body shake/ gotta have your penis/ gotta have your penis/ gotta have your penis/ going up my butt// Then we repeat stuff over and over as I lick a stiff cock, then reach to put it in my mouth, so guitar solo and someone pulls down my panties and spanks me five timmes. Oooo I know what comes next: a cock up my ass,, fucking away, fucking away, fucking fucking fucking FUCKING!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! I love exclamation points when I'm dreaming about cock, makes my cock hard too and I just touched it,, should open my fly so I can feel it better and grab and squeeze and rub it rub it rub it...I must obey....Brahams blasts away while I stroke my cock... homosexualize Brahams....when I think of his music I see cocks for the sucking, cocks for fucking, fucking fucking me fucking m

I love this book. Jack London understands the canine mind, and his story keeps gaining speed right until the end. When White Fang is rescued, that's where the story reaches new heights. The rescuer's kindness is repaid many times over.

I like to think about men/ who will fuck me up the ass/ Fuck me up the ass

Into the cold, you must wander....just don't eat the yellow snow. Just follow your nose and soon you'll be free. Me, I'll be alone crying, in the depths I have sank to. Crying so hard it turns into laughter, hitting so hard it turns back into tears. I wish you were here to tell me that I'm mad. In that wilderness you now call home, life or death would be better than how it would be with me. I should've gone with you, away to the woods thick with snow, but I can't do a thing until I've reached the bottom, bounced a few times, good for the soul.

I found this book puzzling, full of beauty and grace in parts but rather silly as well. Still, I'm glad I read it, because I had to know what the Ayatollah Khomeini had against it; why kill someone just for writing a book? On page 378, I found the answer:it's when Salman the Farsi says, "The closer you are to a conjuroer, the easier it is to spot the trick." That was bound to cause trouble, seeing how Rushdie blatantly calls Muhammed a fraud. No one likes to have their religion doubted by some intellectual who lacks faith, even if Rushdie has Mohammed stating that there is no difference between writers and whores. By then, nothing can protect Rushdie from the wrath of the faithful, though he fortunately suffered no fatal attack in the 35 years since the book's publication. So maybe I should get to work on my groundbreaking novel: Jesus Christ, Private Eye.

Before I forget, I want to put out some of my thoughts about The Kite Runner by Khaled Hosseini. It was interesting reading about Afghanistan and about the lives the refugees in California lived. If it had one weakness it was the narrator of the tale, who was not very admirable, though he did meet the challenge of returning to Afghanistan to do a favor for a friend.