Of late…I gotcha few names—bitch, honey, slut and surprisingly I wear them with royalty. In fact, nobody knows that I’m a prostitute. (Not even myself) but I turn to one when desperation strikes and out-of utter loneliness you shuffle under the sheet; a hidden life waits for me.
Normally, I take less than 52-seconds to look at the mirror unless it’s the on every secretive Saturday. Since, I’ve realized that I won’t look anything else than what I am no matter how longer I remain glued to my reflex ion. This is no understatement! But, the mesmerizing Saturdays finally piqued my interest to get a manicure, airbrush the cheeks, and fit myself into sleazy underwear (which otherwise I hate to wear for they smell of my sweaty testicles) to buy myself one expensive night, every weekend.
Sitting at one of the dim-lit table with beer mugs and crazy people shouting, abusing, and make love outdoor I sat like a poster boy while dozen men paraded in front of me one by one, like bowls of sushi on a carousel till they realize ‘I’m one among of them’.
The worst thing in life is freedom. If you’ve have in abundance you tend to abandon. True. How generous. Value comes with a price tag. Now, I know that's rubbish. and I suffer meanness. With loud blaring tunes that ceaseless play on a repeat mode I stare at drop-drop gorgeous and ‘forget its’. Psst. There are men of different shapes and sizes took to ramp; thin lips, papery eyelids, box jawbones, and withered hairline or full-lip, curly with his nostrils flared and eyes black and as big as saucers. But nude!
As party goes to animals, the men’s room, as usual turn to a big hotspot. Groping and elbows are the biggest competition and mind ’ya you need to remain too close to a man for a fluke moment. (There is a bit of nipple play on the disc floor few minutes ago.) The ice cubes with which the urinals were piled gradually melts with some angst at the accumulating piss that many drink down.
All gay men just superficial disco bunnies with only one thing on their minds. Civil liberties…huh! You say, gay life is obscene, debasing, and disgraceful. The point is so am I.
Normally, I take less than 52-seconds to look at the mirror unless it’s the on every secretive Saturday. Since, I’ve realized that I won’t look anything else than what I am no matter how longer I remain glued to my reflex ion. This is no understatement! But, the mesmerizing Saturdays finally piqued my interest to get a manicure, airbrush the cheeks, and fit myself into sleazy underwear (which otherwise I hate to wear for they smell of my sweaty testicles) to buy myself one expensive night, every weekend.
Sitting at one of the dim-lit table with beer mugs and crazy people shouting, abusing, and make love outdoor I sat like a poster boy while dozen men paraded in front of me one by one, like bowls of sushi on a carousel till they realize ‘I’m one among of them’.
The worst thing in life is freedom. If you’ve have in abundance you tend to abandon. True. How generous. Value comes with a price tag. Now, I know that's rubbish. and I suffer meanness. With loud blaring tunes that ceaseless play on a repeat mode I stare at drop-drop gorgeous and ‘forget its’. Psst. There are men of different shapes and sizes took to ramp; thin lips, papery eyelids, box jawbones, and withered hairline or full-lip, curly with his nostrils flared and eyes black and as big as saucers. But nude!
As party goes to animals, the men’s room, as usual turn to a big hotspot. Groping and elbows are the biggest competition and mind ’ya you need to remain too close to a man for a fluke moment. (There is a bit of nipple play on the disc floor few minutes ago.) The ice cubes with which the urinals were piled gradually melts with some angst at the accumulating piss that many drink down.
All gay men just superficial disco bunnies with only one thing on their minds. Civil liberties…huh! You say, gay life is obscene, debasing, and disgraceful. The point is so am I.
Reminds me of the way things are done, of the utter falacity of life as of such. You have potrayed a life which exsists but we dont want to accept. Unfortunately very few can even think of the way things pan out !
ReplyDeleteAcceptance is easy to march ahead. You can't grow under the cover. The mask need to be revealed to breathe fullsome.
ReplyDelete