there's this glorious window that opens up in the 45 seconds immediately following masturbation and climax. like everything might actually be lined up and simple. the things that need to be done are obvious. every warped thought that was in your head just one minute earlier is now evaporated and silent. god, i can make things happen. i can put this in order. like a great sweating burden has been lifted from your shoulders.
and then the window slams shut and you're again a slave to whatever this is. it is dragging you along; sometimes you're the most disgusting animal and you know exactly why and how.
wipe your fingers clean and keep moving forwards.
atm1
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