Here I go at 3:15. I read more of course... and my stomach hurt of course. Just bored and going a bit nuts I guess. Jealous of your ability to find sex partners in part and disgusted in part, but mostly a feeling of obsoleteness and a kind of peace that maybe a terminally ill person could get knowing they must have HIV or some terrible exposure from the 'Fukishima Disaster' or the 'Fukmygirlfriend Disaster'.
Knowing more and more what kind of men excite you I start to understand myself as just a filler, a step stone kind of like Bruce but a step up in the sack. You are the best liar and flatterer I've known besides maybe my father (thank our lord and savior he's in Baltimore or you might have slept with him too... he's a man's man kind of type... just a bit old... and a nasty case of herpes). I think I learned a lot about what I need to change to have a woman to keep... to have and to hold and to bear my children... one with a suitable sex drive that won't fatten up so I have to divorce her anyway.
I need a job that doesn't require promotion for increased reward because men see me like you do as an unfortunate perma-boy toy not fit for responsibility. Too old now for promotion anyway. My God the most humiliating thing in your diatribes and ruminations is I'm barely mentioned except for as a side note... with all the time I spent with you while we were together. That is how I am seen in the workforce. You only had childcare duty for me while out looking for a more equipped tool. Some instinct inside you must have known I was trustworthy and competent enough for the grunt work while you went out looking for real men who have important-big-dick activities to do like manage people instead of watching toddlers. I need to own a place a bit off the grid so my special girl won't be socializing with other men while I'm off working to support her ass... no apartment complexes. She doesn't laugh like a whore at other men's jokes... hopefully she works at a job with mostly other women and queers so she isn't being constantly chipped away by real men with more money and bigger cocks. Maybe she works with kids and she definitely doesn't belong to groups with all kinds of fucked up narcissistic horny loud men that coach each other on how not to die from drinking... or other groups that I'm not a part of and never will be. How about a book club or a guild instead of brainwashing factories and cheap therapy. In fact she shouldn't be socializing with any men that earn more... (that's everyone) or have bigger biceps, stronger backs and of course fatter, harder hogs (just about everyone).
I don't think you would have married Jesus before 30... Skinny. Good talker and listener. Compassionate. Probably a tender kisser because he's a bit feminine and delicate with artists hands. A bit of a know-it-all and a philosopher (he is the son of God). Witty and slender... stern and convicted. A simple man. A carpenter. A rambler. Average dick that he does his best with only when he's in love. Loves his "Virgin" mother. Not reaching his potential or ambitions until late in life... So boring that they don't even talk about him until he walks out of the wilderness at age 30 having conquered temptations of flesh and power, and yet still so easy to be around. Laid back and forgiving. Nearly free of ego. Scared to death to leave his nepotism and face an unforgiving world only armed with truth and no unconditional love to fall back on... just love worn raw. None of those things seem to match any of the men you write about. Obsess about. Men like me that are more Christ-like than the ones you get wet to. You definitely would have at least tried to sleep with him when he started getting notorious, but he probably would have turned you down or not been as good a lay as the last guy you screwed who was the center of attention. Oh-well maybe if you try them all you'll find the right one. Anyway that's off track and a bit low for someone as Christ-like as myself. I'm sure God will present me with a path to that reality before I melt away into dust... just do one thing and let me know if you caught anything nasty from these sexy men who spread their seed with such perfection. Knowing what diseases I might carry from you makes my path more clear in a morbid sense. And you certainly owe me that courtesy.
Okay so maybe I'm too petty to be Christ-like, but I definitely am more so than the 28 you've Loved. At least Jesus [?] before age 30. Even my hair and beard are becoming more Christ-like... I masturbate and watch porn less and less because its cold and all those sluts just remind me of you and the guys they fuck are just like the ones you forget me for. Thank you for helping me quell that nasty habit before I developed arthritis in my painting hand. Less attachment to worldly things unfortunately makes us less interested in being in this world... I think I always had you beat in that department, but it certainly can lead to destruction like it did Christ. You're too materialistic to destroy yourself fully. There's always a better human being around the corner to love you down or maybe you can fix others who don't know how badly you've hurt lesser people. Like a meat market. Just don't wind up a money-changer in his Church... He REALLY doesn't like that. Christ is merely a man for whom truth became more important than life. Simply know thyself and to thyself be true. People saw that and sent shock waves throughout history. It left a perfect scar in all of us so even the non-believers can't help but revere his sacrifice.
If you test positive for anything let me know. I'm too cowardly to check myself.
I'll be trying not to fantasize about you coming out in those shorts while I was shadow boxing with your son. Fuck my brain.
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