The District sleeps alone tonight.
Well fellow bloggers, we've reached the end of an era. The huskateers have disbanded. We have graduated from mere debaucherous college students to somewhat alcoholic, desperate 20-somethings. The bed on which I've entertained so many lovers finally couldn't take anymore. I'll be giving it a proper Viking funeral soon, as it was much like a good friend who knew all my deepest secrets.
I feel very indy rock right now, laying on a matress on the floor in an empty apartment, virgin cigarette rings and bad metaphors lingering in the air. Change is everywhere and certainty is somehow out of reach.
But I'm not indy rock.
"I want so badly to believe that there is truth, that love is real."
***
Last night, I gave into the lonliness of living alone and invited a stranger over for drinks. He seemed nice enough, despite having red hair and blue eyes, which I consider to be the most dishonest combination. Of course I fucked him, over a significant amount of debate about wearing a condom. I have no idea why I'm bothering to commemorate him with a post. There was nothing noteworthy or memorable about what happened, and were it not for the remaining condom wrappers, I would probably not believe it happened at all.
I know there is some debate over what has become of the hussy in me. I think I finally have a better grasp on my dilemma. It's not the casual sex that has been bothering me of late. Casual sex has never bothered me, but it seems as though it once had the air of intimacy. Or at least, of friendship and kindness. Granted, they were always just strangers, but once they were strangers who were still people--we were both still people, together in a moment. Now, when I look at whoever is fucking me, we're both objects and sex has become so commonplace that I can barely fain interest once I've come. Sex is in everything around me: it's my job, it's my volunteer work, it's in the decor of my room. I read the narratives of crystal meth users, and I know exactly how they feel. I have transcended from recreational user to complete addict. I act now more out of behavorial patterns than of desire. And as soon as the high wears off, I cannot understand why I did it the first place. I now understand that it's not the act that concerns me, but the motives behind it.
I feel very indy rock right now, laying on a matress on the floor in an empty apartment, virgin cigarette rings and bad metaphors lingering in the air. Change is everywhere and certainty is somehow out of reach.
But I'm not indy rock.
"I want so badly to believe that there is truth, that love is real."
***
Last night, I gave into the lonliness of living alone and invited a stranger over for drinks. He seemed nice enough, despite having red hair and blue eyes, which I consider to be the most dishonest combination. Of course I fucked him, over a significant amount of debate about wearing a condom. I have no idea why I'm bothering to commemorate him with a post. There was nothing noteworthy or memorable about what happened, and were it not for the remaining condom wrappers, I would probably not believe it happened at all.
I know there is some debate over what has become of the hussy in me. I think I finally have a better grasp on my dilemma. It's not the casual sex that has been bothering me of late. Casual sex has never bothered me, but it seems as though it once had the air of intimacy. Or at least, of friendship and kindness. Granted, they were always just strangers, but once they were strangers who were still people--we were both still people, together in a moment. Now, when I look at whoever is fucking me, we're both objects and sex has become so commonplace that I can barely fain interest once I've come. Sex is in everything around me: it's my job, it's my volunteer work, it's in the decor of my room. I read the narratives of crystal meth users, and I know exactly how they feel. I have transcended from recreational user to complete addict. I act now more out of behavorial patterns than of desire. And as soon as the high wears off, I cannot understand why I did it the first place. I now understand that it's not the act that concerns me, but the motives behind it.
posted by The Husskateer at 9:33 AM
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