Waiting

Downing my whiskey like there's no tomorrow.

But you don't care, you never did.

You're too old.

I'm too too young.

I don't want to get to where you are.

So cruel, so cruel, so cruel.

I don't want to be so cruel when I'm 30 fucking years old.

I want to love. I want to preach love.

Not like you, so jaded.

No games.

I want to live without all these games.

I love.

That's my thing.  

Acceptance

I'm running.

I'm running as fast I can.

But I don't know what I'm running after, running towards.

I'm running.

I'm running away.

The faster I run, the more free I feel.

"The baggage will be gone soon.", I tell myself.

Well, it isn't exactly a lie.

But I'm running in a loop.

There is no beginning and there is no end.

I'm chasing drugs and dreams.

Wired, so fucking wired.

My limbs hurt.

My head hurts.

But my soul hurts the most.

It's exhausting trying to stay sane so I let go.

I show my ugly and I am rather proud of my dark. It makes me who I am.

Winter is almost gone, I want to do it all before it ends.

Soak every moment in like a child.

It's essential to give yourself to someone sometimes or you never grow, never learn. 

I feel the sweat on his body, enjoy our momentary togetherness.

I don't think of another from the past.

It's him that I kiss. There is no baggage.

He's in me, inside me, with me as I transcend to higher ground.

Higher and higher and higher still.

There is no baggage.

Am I free at last?

But it seems to good to be true.

I try not to be a cynic, jaded like the older ones.

Tonight I dance.

I dance like there is no tomorrow.

My feet hurt.

I don't care.

I dance.

I dance to the beat of the drum.

I am no longer ashamed of who I've become.

Touch

You're so soft.
You're so wet.
You're so wild.
You're different.

Tear into me.
Tear me apart.
So I can find myself.

You're so weird.
You're so cold.
You aren't yourself today.

I crave for your body as much as you crave for my heart.
I crave for your heart as much as you crave for my body.
And yet the interests are never quite the same.

One.
And another.
And another.
And another.
Maybe another.

Touch me.
Touch my soul.
And I'll drown you in my love.

That's The Spirit

It's 2 in the morning, we're at Park Street making out like hormonal teenagers. I surprise myself by choosing to go out with him. He's young, like me. All my recent tales have been with slightly older ones, men. But boys are sweet, they don't play games. There's a certain innocence in them which I wish I found attractive. It's dangerous for me to be with them though, I always end up breaking their hearts, although unwillingly.

I enjoy his company. We talk, observe the hundreds (or thousands?) around us and do all sorts of juvenile things. It feels good to be a child again. I want the weight of adulthood and maturity off my shoulders on some nights. 

I still think about him sometimes though. I wonder if I ever cross his mind.

But I know now that I will never be his, he never wanted me as much as he wanted himself, his own adventures. I was never in the picture. There was no space for me in his heart. It was all in my head. But that's alright, you live and you learn.

Sometimes it feels great to be able to kiss somebody without expecting anything in return. You don't want to fall in love, you don't want him to love you. You just want to be kissed and held. 

I've had some strange adventures in 2015, met the most interesting people. I am proud of how far I've come from the wreck that I was in last year. My life isn't all that bad, I'd like to think. 

I have been sticking to my self-imposed rules post erectile-dysfunction man and it's safe to say that although I may be alone, at least I'm not lonely.

So 2015, what a merry Christmas indeed!

Reeling, Rewinding

2015 has gone by rather quickly now that I sit to think about it. I still remember the first day of the year, having sex for the last time with an ex boyfriend who I was in love with at the time. But I knew it was the end for us, he made me orgasm one last time.

My heart broke into a million pieces, I knew I never would be able to heal. I was right. But I carried on nevertheless. With all my strength, I carried on.

Many roads led to many places and many memories. So many. Beautiful souls, beautiful moments, with me now, in my head forever.

But then he came and broke me, another one. Now his face is a blur. The moments are a blur. 

Inconsequential, mediocre. 

And yet he broke me down, he did and how.

I've lost myself in other lovers since. 

It doesn't help, only makes me hate myself more.

Binge. Binge. Binge.

I've been nailed to this crucifix.

The consequence of my death cannot be so inspid. 

I want to share, spread all this love that I have inside of me.

If I go would you miss me?

Would you ever think of me?

You're the pretty boy who's so cool. 

You're the exotic one.

You're the friend.

You're the boy who's obsessed with me.

You're the man who drives me insane.

They all drive me insane. 

I want to heal them all.

The good souls, only slightly misguided.

Being alone, being lonely.

The yin and the yang.

It makes perfect sense, I know now.

Dear Suzette,

Life is not easy when you're a woman, navigating through this dark tunnel where danger awaits you at every step. But you filled me with so much hope. You refused to let your tragedies define who you were. You were always a survivor, never a victim. 

All my life I've tried to look for the good in people, even though they have only shown me their dark. People do cruel things sometimes. I don't know why, but they do. I guess humans are cruel creatures. They become cruel in their drive to survive it all.

But you were everything I've always admired in a woman. You were a role model for young girls, teaching them grace and strength during times of extreme turbulence.

I've grown up believing in the power of balance, believing that's the way this universe works. But where is the balance this time? Where is the justice?

You fought like a brave, you fought hard, till your last breath. I cried myself to sleep the day you passed away. I cried like I would if I lost a loved one. I cried even though I did not know you at all. I prayed to the universe for justice, just that. 

Today, when I read about how the main suspect is still absconding, I couldn't understand why people were rejoicing because you finally got "your justice".

How is it justice when the men who stole your soul are allowed to live on earth? How is it justice when the media merely used you for their profit and dropped you as soon as you weren't a "trending topic" anymore? How is it justice when the primary accused still roams free? How is it justice if you're dead?

Maybe the world doesn't deserve people like you, you're too good for this world, this species. Maybe your justice was your death, your endless peace.

I feel broken.

I feel broken beyond repair at this point. All my ideals are falling apart and there's nothing I can do but live through it all, build an impenetrable wall around me so I'm safe forever.

When it gets too lonely, I'll sink into my abyss with music to keep me company. But I don't know for how long. I'm only 24, I wish I wasn't this jaded. 

Love,

S.

Bad Days, Worst Days

Where are you when I need you?
I try to find you in his eyes when he looks at me.
There is no kindness.
There is no admiration.
He doesn't even want me. I could be just about anybody.

I can't sleep. I keep picturing his face and how it changes as the heartache kicks in.
I break his heart because I've had mine broken.
My beautiful, innocent boy.
He is starting to fall in love with me, he says.
And here I am, running away, when all my life when I've looked for someone to love me.
Instead of running to him, I'm imposing myself on someone who doesn't want me.

I can feel my soul dying every single day.
Is this what growing up really feels like?

I get hurt if I don't grow, I hurt myself when I do.
Everything is a loop, only the form changes with time.

A young boy broke me over a decade ago.
But I've been broken again and again since.
I'm stupid, what else can I possibly say...

I lie when I tell them they're the best,
I don't want their souls as much as they want my body.

Happy Daze

Listening to music has always been a very personal thing for me. I like to be in my room, lie on my bed and listen to album after album. You can't take that away from me. I enjoy music best when I'm alone, in my dark hole.

It's been like that.

With dendrite.

With lovers.

Stoned out of my mind.

I can't let you take that away from me, all my memories.

I miss him when I listen to Joy Division sometimes. I rewind and replay all the afternoons of love, lust, pleasure, sin. It's all good, but only, it really isn't.

The greatest lover, gone.

I'm running in circles.

I've been running in circles for as long as I can imagine.

You can't take away my pain, can you? 

Honestly, my tarnished sense of self doesn't affect me as much he does. It kills me to think that it's over.

My soul mate's really dead.

Gone.

Gone.

Gone.

Gone forever.

Tonight, I think about you like you still exist. I think of that one winter afternoon when everything changed forever.

Lover in the slight winter sun,

Filling my void,

With every kiss.

I want to bite him, touch him, kiss him. 

I want him to consume me.

I want to give myself to him.

Horny like bunny rabbits, we were the bad kids in town. They tell our tales to young lovers racing too fast, gambling it all away. 

Why couldn't we see the warning signs?

This insatiable thirst.

It never goes away.

But when I get weary of the chase

I want to join you soon, some day.

Faith

I want you to fill me with so much love that all the dark of my past somehow disappears magically.

I'm holding my breath.

But I don't know for how long.

I need you. 

I need you to hold me.

I need you to hold me and promise me that you'll never break my heart.

I'd have to kill myself if you did.

Straight Lines

The powder's laced with meth. I do a line and I know.
You do it too, you do it anyway.
This is more dastardly than the hookup culture.
Oh well, what have we to lose.
Or at least me.

Sign of the times.
The music's too loud, not my cup of tea.
Fuck that.
I enjoy silence more than you'd like to think.

There's not much to do or say when the clothes are off.
It's strange, to feel your body.
I want to treat you like the royalty that you are.
But I'm not going to stay, you deserve better, my queen.

Have No Shame

Have No Shame

Feed my endless narcissism,

so I can starve my demons.

You hear the stories, but you don't know what it's really like because you've experienced nothing. I can't say the same for myself because my wounds make me more whole than you'd imagine. The recent months have been strangely therapeutic, so many new places and faces have taught me about myself.

But I have my dark too, maybe I'll get better at camouflaging it the older I grow. Now, however, I'd like to think I'm invincible, even if it's for only a short while. No one gets to rain on my parade! 

I did a replay of all these memories collected from this year and I can't believe how unbelievable it has been overall. I've lost and I've found. It's all balanced, just like the universe. 

Let go,
so you can set me free.

No shame.
No inhibitions.

My youth is temporary,
Exploit it while you still can.

But I can't give you my heart unless you give me yours.

Vibrations

Everything ends when you go away, you're here now and will be gone before you know it. Maybe I'll find that connect with someone else, that energy, that vibration. For a species as competent in regeneration as us, I don't see why I will not be able to find another like you if I look for them with some honesty. Only now I know that it won't last forever, nothing is meant to last forever. That's just the way life works, the universe works.

We start out from a point, meet and then separate. If you place your life on a straight line, all these points that flow through you, make you whole. So many different memories, places, faces, emotions. They all come together, to help shape your soul. The signs are all out there. You need to introspect and be more receptive.

Why are we here?

Why am I here?

The male body perceives pleasure very differently from the female body. I've had lovers of both genders with whom I've shared many moments of ecstasy with. I can feel the energy they feel when they're in an extreme state of pleasure, where it almost borders on insanity. The idea of sharing that state of mind or help them get there is what brings me the most joy. So I try and mould myself into the best damn person I can be, for them to derive gratification from. 

On some days I have a good day and on some I let my demons take over and consume me whole.

But I'm trying, every day I'm trying.

Because in the end, I know, it will all be worth it.

Slowly unfold layer by layer,

See things for the way they are.

There is no right and wrong,

There are only choices.

Every step.

Every minute.

It all counts, I guess.

Call them out on their charades,

Don't participate.

Step back.

Go away.

Never come back.

Take your time, take all the time you need.

But make up your mind, 

Once and for all. 

Lover/Post Coitus

(Now)

This is clearly the strangest thing I've done, to meet someone I've barely fucked, at midnight, in a strage new city. But I guess with age comes a slight amount of wisdom. I feel like an adult, without the responsibilities and the nagging feeling of perpetual tiredness. 

Atleast I'm young.

Atleast I'm not too drunk.

Atleast I have nothing to be scared of... yet. 

Maybe we'll talk all night.

Maybe we'll fuck our brains out.

I don't know yet.

But he's charming, he's charming as fuck.

He's quite possibly my favourite older man so far. 

I don't know though.

Don't count your chickens before they hatch.

(Later) 

He's standing at the corner, smiling. It's always good to see your lover smiling.

"Was it an alright flight?"

"Yes, the usual"

We spend hours caressing each other, kissing. I feel like he's a male version of me. He wants to take it all in. I want to immerse myself in him.

We kiss, we talk, we fuck on loop.

It was everything I imagined it to be. So much more. 

And now I can't get him out of my head. Again.

12am In Bandra

It's only midnight,
but I am tired.
I've had a long day.
As much as I love this city, I don't see myself living here.
I'll always be an outsider, like everyone else.

I like living in the comfort of my bubble back home, soon I shall have a place of my own.
(Or maybe I should blow it all on travel when my charmant garçon finally gets here)
Adulthood is such a pain, I want to be a child forever and always.

I want to sleep till 2 tomorrow and wake and bake.
I want to dress nice and explore this town.
All these new faces, new places.
So much life, so little time.

Maybe I'll do it all.
Maybe I'll do nothing.
I'm young, no restraints.
This vagabond life is something I have craved for for a long time.
I want to do it all, experience it all.

If I take a step forward, in any direction, I'll still learn.
I'll live and I'll learn, from all my mistakes, I'll learn.
I need to stop telling myself I can't do it. I can. I can do it all.

But tomorrow is a new day.
The night is long, but distant at the moment.
If he comes tomorrow, I'll fuck him.
I'll fuck him good.

Netflix And Chill

What would be the Indian equivalent to Netflix and Chill, come over for some whiskey and a joint?

Dating becomes increasingly hard the older you grow. Pretty faces don't attract you anymore because by now you've worked out a formula for yourself: you can't have good sex if you're not connected to your partner, no matter how attractive looking they might be. 

So I find myself in his bedroom, on his bed, naked to the bone, being ravaged by him. It feels alright or maybe I don't have a conscience anymore.
But there's something very attractive about the way older guys handle themselves, they focus on your pleasure more than theirs. They've been around in the game longer than you have and so they've got some fancy tricks up their sleeves, just that gentlemen never mention the details. They know better than to kiss and tell.

I try to figure out his dynamics.
He slowly moves closer to me. Closer. Closer.

He asks me if he can kiss me. The moment has passed.

Consent is a strange thing. If you say it out loud then you ruin it and yet at the same time, if you don't ask, you always leave room for a mistake.
I try to find his quirks and I find nothing.
He's as gentle as he's assertive.

More 30 year olds! What am I doing here!

He brings out a bottle of single malt, it's probably older and fancier than I am. I tell him that, I have nothing to be ashamed of. I am young, allowed to make my own mistakes. We talk for a long time. about life as an artiste. We're not much different, only our mediums are.
I escape my tiny bubble only to be a part of a slightly bigger one. It doesn't matter though, none of this matters.

We kiss for a long time.
He kisses me for the longest time.
He runs his hands down my body, exploring it for the first time.

I'm slightly stoned. Or maybe I'm very stoned.
I want to make love to this man. I want to feel him.
Sometimes I grab him like a man and sometimes I'm gentle as a woman.
I don't know which role I want to play with him.
I have the most intense urge to pleasure him as he pleasures me.
I try.
I can't see the expression on his face but I can gauge that he's enjoying it.

I run out of time, leave his house smelling of him, still feeling his tongue on my body and his taste in my mouth.
Maybe we'll see each other again. I don't know.
At this point, I've left it all to destiny.