Sunrise of an atomic failure

11 03 2014

Here we are. Me and you. Eyes into eyes.
I speak, my mouth moves, my fingers typing this words.
The urge to pee is an un-poetical expression of my desire of submission. I put myself here and now in this situation, holding it behind what is needed, to feel the pressure building as a mythological version of my boiling soul, the everlasting desire of a release which never comes.
For there is power in words, those words I can’t find nor anywhere nor on anyone, those words that would dare to set me apart from everybody else, the words “You’re mine” to whom I would abide.
I am free only the moment I have to ask everything, even such a trivial thing as the permission to use a toilet, and I am bound to your answer as deeply as I am by your hands.
These are the places where a “No” is as much erotic and liberating as a “Yes”. Ther is no difference. Or maybe the “No” would make more sense. Somehow.
Don’t let me choose, don’t let me free. Don’t let myself sink into myself, keep me outside on the verge of a constant restless torture of the soul, of the mind, of what’s left of my body.

But it is clear I am losing the battle.
The Man that will speak those words is not going to come. Here I am bound by unsolved desires and undeserving boredom.
Not the kind of domination I was hoping for, but this is all that Italy can give me, that this city gave me so far.

I wanted to go out, to try something new, to feel the vibrant cords in my belly sing the song of pleasure again. I can’t.
There is nowhere to go, only an endless landscape of solitude.
No firm hand will squeeze my balls until I cry, no whip will make my back red with wisdom.

I feel alone.

I write this with sadness. I don’t know what the future will prescribe to me. I sincerely hope it will be something more than this “nothingness” I feel and see around me, but for the time being there is no escape.
I am bound by my own idiocy – year after year. At a certain point will I be too old to play?
And that is a day I don’t want to see.
For I will be stuck inside myself. Forever.

This blog is a rant. A rant of a lost soul.
I cannot speak any other language now, but the one of my own desperation.




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