domingo, 30 de diciembre de 2012

Sex is not a goddamn performance. Sex should feel as natural...

Sex is not a goddamn performance. Sex should feel as natural as drinking water. It should not require confidence.
Sex should happen, because the moment is ripe. Ripening lips, ripening labia, ripening cock, ripening pupils, ripening state of being. Ripe and augmented and brimming. Your energy goes to your pumping heart, then to every external nerve, then to theirs, on fire.
You bask, roll, play in it. You sigh, moan, laugh. It’s not about being “good in bed.” It’s about being happy.
One should never worry if they’re doing it “correctly.” Sex is not factual. I don’t want your cookie-cutter sex, I don’t want your meticulously crafted, calculated, fool-proof fuck. I don’t want a show. I want you. Let your instincts, urges and whims define that. It’s enough.
What do most girls like? Forget about it. Statistics are meaningless when there’s only one. Hello, here’s me. Here’s you. Don’t worry about taking it too slow. We got time. We got infinite rhythms, combinations, possibilities. Explore each fuck. Take our time. We can do a different one later.
Don’t worry about making me come. I’m here. Right where I want to be. I am overwhelmed by wanting; you don’t have to convince me. I want you because I like you. So don’t put on a front. Don’t taint this.
I’m frustrated—it’s just authenticity I want. It’s originality. It’s passion. It’s joy. Don’t say that something I like is ugly. Don’t compare yourself to the rest. You will live and die with and within your experiences like everyone else. If someone thinks you are amazing, they are not wrong. Their universe is as real as any other; it is forged through perception.
I don’t care if you accidentally slammed my head into the wall, if you slipped out, if my arm cracked, if the delightful pressure of your wet lips on my anything made a silly sound. There is no right way and no wrong way.
“Good in bed,” what. You’re good in my bed. I’m pleased you’re there. I feel it suits you. Shove your technique. Let your memory swallow it. Fuck me like you’d fuck me, fuck me like you feel. This isn’t a test.




“what is essential is invisible to the eye”

miércoles, 19 de diciembre de 2012

lunes, 17 de diciembre de 2012



"No hay soledad perfecta,
esto es un fraude;
ser y no estar (es duro)
ser y no estar con la persona amada" — Fragmento de Sobre la soledad hoy me desdigo, Gloria Fuertes.

viernes, 14 de diciembre de 2012

uno mismo

Y después de un tiempo, uno aprende que si es demasiado, hasta el calorcito del sol quema. Así que uno planta su propio jardín y decora su propia alma, en lugar de esperar que alguien le traiga flores.”  Jorge Luís Borges


sábado, 8 de diciembre de 2012


Source: ser-shuer-malota                                            


Últimamente no se me quita de la cabeza. Debe ser porque no hago nada en todo el día. Si no tienes nada que hacer, los pensamientos te llevan cada vez mas lejos. Te llevan tan lejos, que llega un punto en que ya no puedes seguirlos
Haruki Murakami