Like a Fuckin’ Dream


These powerful and intense words made me sad. I have been made happy by many such beautiful moments where bodies and faces kept changing, but I could never make sense of why? Like what are we doing when we are all fucking each other? Is this how we look for love? Or is this how we lose ourselves bit by bit or at the hands of one individual at a time? I am not against or for promiscuity (nor judging anyone else out there either) since I am myself admitting hundreds, if not thousands of my lovers. Beyond this need to connect with others (physically, intellectually or spiritually), why can’t we just be? After all, this temporary life is already too short to get to know our own stranger selves, let alone all those people (outside of us) we cross paths with.

Okay, I think I need to walk since I have had a lot of tasty food. Let the poets continue to fuck others and themselves for now!

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