Service my bike.

Apply to USP

Walking, talking, breathing, living, eating, bathing.

It all hurts like a bitch.

Ok i’m just being a whiny bastard again.

Too bad I’m too old to whine. Can’t believe I even saw a replica of her with Isa. Something stirred, something gave way. Is it all an illusion?

Should I stop being a dude who’s just enjoying life, because life doesn’t throw me nothing but lemons? Getting pretty sour, not to mention my acid reflux problem which just surfaced.

Very soon, I’m going to rail against the Maker in the Sky.

Coarse thick fumes are sucked, down tender walls, damaging, ravaging.

Breathe out the acrid bitter poison, make it go away.

At last, it ends.

Living fast, dying young, hopefully leaving a beautiful corpse. That’s James Dean’s philosophy on life, and he’s the Rebel Without A Cause.

Gotta admire the man. He really died pretty young.

Then I recall the pictures burnt into my memory.

Those hands were held by another man, those breasts felt by another man, those lips used by another man.

Under the sheets when no one could see what happens, a hand is easy to give, as is a good grope and feel. Especially when you seem to cover up with modesty with a blanket. It must mean there is something less than meets the eye. He is obviously topless, you’re obviously lying in his arms.

Do you owe me an explanation? I don’t know. I don’t care. I thought you do, but so did I think lots of other things that turned out wrong. It won’t hurt to have. But I’m numb to it if I don’t.

Your arms are no longer there for me, to calm the raging storm.

To soothe the fires with your wise whispered words. All I have right now is a band of brothers, asking me to do the impossible. I love you boys, but I love you more.

How can a foreign shore transform you so much?

I still don’t believe it, and still I hope to see

it through to the end. I don’t know if this will ever reach your eyes, or if it will ever touch your heart of stone. But deep inside, I know it won’t.

Why?

The orgy goes on unseen. And you’re the only girl. The other girls are chilling in the background. Are the pictures wilder than reality? Very difficult. Who knows how many moments of you clambering over boys went uncaptured? Who knows what else his hands were up to when they were between your legs? Who knows how many guys it took to pull up your top? To get into that pose, it was probably a wild, wild party.

Has anything changed? Or are you just afraid that people will get the “wrong” impression?

That a harmless party has so much unseen, trashy moments straight out from a youporn.com clip of college kids gone wild.

Or should I say, you want people to get the impression the party is innocent and pure?

If you do it, you should be proud to let others see it. Why be afraid of impressions and embarrassment?

You’re such a disappointment. Especially after you realize those pics are damn slutty, you still insist the actions are just fun, rather than slutty actions. Ever wondered why the other girls didn’t join in the “fun”? Maybe because they treasure their body more. Guys touching them freely in the name of harmless fun?

How will anyone ever feel special when you hold them again? How will anyone ever feel unique when you get intimate with them? Because you’re doing it with everyone. Your bare belly is probably seen/touched/licked by every guy, your breasts probably brushed against every guy’s chest. Your thighs and what’s beyond? I don’t even dare to imagine.

An image keeps going through my head. You’re all over one guy, licking his ear, another guy pulls up your top and maybe starts to fondle you, all while joking and laughing. Then some other guy comes over, says, hey check this out! and pulls out his cock. You’re like “hahaha you need some help with that? And you give him a hand/blow/lick.” Then you decide that pulling off your pants/panties is going to be good fun because all the boys are doing it and they’re daring you to join in, and probably that guy at your belly will move down on you. The guy you’re on will straighten you up, and do you hard while you’re helping some one out. Everyone’s laughing, everyone’s having fun.

All in the name of fun. The next morning you’re like, oh that was some good funny-haha fun! What’s wrong? Everyone enjoyed themselves, no one got killed in the process. What can be less harmless?

I can’t get it out of my head, and it hurts, and its your fault, because you’ve turned into a person you would despise in the past. A person with no limits. You’ve turned into some one you wanted me to avoid turning into, because you despised such a person.

The image hurts, but you hurt me the most. Who are you now?

Once, some one who loved to stay home and hated excessive drinking and playfulness. Is that truth?

Now, some one who loves excessive drinking and playfulness to the point of shamelessness. Is that truth?

A little of the latter won’t hurt, I hear. Especially if it is to win and impress new friends with that fun-loving attitude.

But when will that little cross into a lot? Followed soon by regret?

Which is truth?

Whichever it is, find the truth, be true, and you will live life meaningfully and without regrets.