The statement is made, the dices are throw. I analyse too much and in that something must be wrong.
We are indeed defined by the words we choose, the words I choose to define myself are going deeper somehow.
First of all I’m a geek. Maybe even worst, a nerd. I like to read and computer and I could make a good living of IT programming but I decided to study arts. First mistake of my life.
Secondly I’m a slave. Call me a slut, a sub, a bitch, whatever you want and I’ll be happy. Especially if you have a nice belt too. I could go on an have vanilla sex like anyone else but one day I saw by mistake a BDSM porn and I was doomed. Second mistake of my life.
Here I am now, after a night out with a few friends of mine. Stunned by the hot guys out there, the best one half naked dancing on the floor, I still ask myself why I am so stupidly shy and I don’t simply jump on them like anyone else does.
Again I think of my life and the fact I never had a real boyfriend is sort of a problem. So I ask myself why and there it goes the third error.
Analysingis anal indeed. Is a retentive option, is an holding back something. You digest your problem, you break them in small pieces.
Yet your ass still need some action for people understand, when they see you, that you’re quite weird.
Oh how funny is the power of chastity (not self or other imposed… just coincidental)
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