Kissing In The Room Of Mirrors

He bends down unexpectedly to kiss me, oh wow, he's really tall isn't he.

We're in the room of mirrors. Infinite images, a moment preserved in time.

Monsoon is for romance, monsoon is to find myself over and over again. 

The Oldest/Youngest I've Been

With another birthday round the corner, I'm strangely indifferent about it. What do I want from life this next year? I don't really know. At this point I'm grateful to be alive, somewhat sane.

It feels a little bit strange to not have the usual pillars around but I guess the good thing about ageing is that you start looking inward for peace, meaning and you learn to slowly stop projecting on others all the nasty things in your head.

I feel strangely young and so old at the same time. Maybe I'll run again, for this birthday but the soberiety feels really good. It's only helped that all my recent romantic liasons have been extremely sober men with extremely progressive minds. There is no fuzzy cloud around my brain. I am very well aware of moments and I'm very eager to keep it that way.

I walk around town with a lovely man, we end up spending a lot more time together than expected just talking...about everything and anything. There is no rush, in true Calcutta style, we take it slow slow slow. He's so tall and lean. Eyes blue and shining bright in the monsoon sun, I like the physicality. But I like his head, the stories more. I guess that's what growing up does to one, you start looking for deeper relationships, ones that fill your soul a little bit in their own ways. Every story is different, every story matters a lot more. 

Still working my way around abandonment issues, my brain is careful to not get fixated on magical occurrences of the recent past. Sure there are explicit memories and some photographs but I'm learning to let go gracefully.

It's like a boomerang. Comes back, whatever you send out, into the universe.

Hate for hate.

Love for love. 

The Education of S

I have been doing the best I can to please him. My skills feel juvenile but my intent is gold.

Baby's so big, you might choke me.

I know you like it, I like it too.

I could do this all night long, pleasure you. 

The Seduction Of S

Man in the mirror, I submit to you.

Ravage me, tear me apart.

But glue the pieces back together with your kisses before you leave.

Your touch sets my soul on fire. 

Manhood, I'm your little girl. 

Photograph me, undress me, spank me, touch me, taste me, lick me, bend me, caress me, explore every inch of my being.

Open the floodgates. 

Make use of my pretty mouth. I want to swallow you whole. 

Shake me, make me, teach me, free me, love me, kiss me, fuck me, break me, pleasure me, be inside me till I explode. 

Manhood, I'm your petite little princess. 

Le Petit Prince

The universe works in strange and sometimes incredibly beautiful ways...it does, it does.

As we lay caressing each other, talking shop The Little Prince came up. He'd never read it and being the dutiful child that I am, I scanned my bookshelf for it, completely oblivious to the fact that the copy I had was one I wanted to give to someone I was falling in love with at the time. I tried to hide it but he wouldn't let me. We wrestled, I was desperate to hide it but I didn't stand a chance. He was a strong man, he was an older man. I lost. He read the note, he read the damn note. 

I sat there feeling so stupid, so incredibly stupid. Here I was, with this beautiful man full of wisdom and grace and I was just a stupid little kid with notes in books. Unrequited love, oh the shame. So awkward and clumsy, a side of me which I cannot show to the world because I'm so vulnerable. But he didn't think of it as stupid, he didn't think it was silly at all. "I like writing notes and letters", I paused, "but everybody seems to think it's stupid and a little bit crazy"

"It's not stupid, it's wonderful...crazy, yes but also beautiful" or something on those lines, he quipped. He joked about the dendrite abuse killing my grey cells, I joked about his age making him senile. We laughed, we kissed, we cuddled, we fucked. We went out for ice cream and he bought me a bunch of essential medicines because I only had Savlon at home. Alright, that's another adult thing that had completely skipped my mind. "Love, you've got to have some basic medicines at home in case of emergencies"

He held me as we walked, sneaking in a kiss or two. We spoke about Calcutta and how monsoon is my favourite time of the year here. We came back home, he looked at me as I pranced around, fidgeted. He smiled. "What?" I kept asking him as I blushed. 

I felt this weight being lifted off my chest. Later at night, he lay with me and we read the book together. 

"What makes you like the fox part so much?"

"I don't know...I just do"

"So...you think it's a silly little book, don't you?" There wasn't a chance I would impress this man with my ideals so I didn't even try I guess. 

"No, it's quite adult actually" he stroked my body. I could feel my life coming a full circle. It wasn't like any other time before.

His touch made me so wet, so wet. I admired his hands for a long time. Hands of a surgeon, hands of a wise man, hands of a lover. Hands of my lover. 

Doctor Salt and Pepper, I was his pet. I was his meek little monkey. Something in me had been undone, I was ready to submit to him. Completely. I did as he wanted, I let him do as he pleased but not once did he abuse the trust. He fucked my brains out, he made love to me. He did what he had promised, loved me all night long. 

"You're the oldest person I've been with so far" 

I guess somewhere down the line I grew so accustomed to having my walls up high that I forgot how good it felt to be touched, to be made love to.

Sobriety invokes strange emotions. Beautiful, pure.

I orgasmed like I've never before. There was no crutch, no haze around my brain. As he entered me deep it felt like the climax that I deserved. It was a climax like no other.

We ended together and as we slept, I clutched his body tight, buried my face in his chest. Safe in his arms, I was a little girl again. 

Floatation Devices

I've woken up alarmingly early for a Sunday and there's no hangover despite the cheap alcohol that's gone into my system the night before. Turns out drunk me is considerate enough to do the dishes and not leave them overnight. Oh well, small victories I guess.

The mixes are taking some time for me to wrap my head around but the finish line is getting close, quite close. Eight songs, many orgasms and a few bad apples here and there. Balance. L-R.

I tell A that I want to see him. He tells me something I cannot quite understand. Turns out he's trying to phrase something in hindi and google translate is a little bit of a fail. It's rather cute. He's so adorable, even from miles and miles away, through a damn computer screen. What a beautiful soul, I think to myself. There's not a hint of jadedness or cruelty in him. It feels unreal almost. Also, that accent, so yum! I could listen to him talk forever, it's a party in my pants. But superficiality aside, there's something strikingly different about his worldview. He sees me as a lover, always and forever. He doesn't want to own me, possess me like some sort of a commodity. He doesn't want to destroy me. He only wants to love me, make love to me. Mon petit prince, mon cœur, mon amour. 

Lover lover lover,
lovers everywhere.

I'm still friends with so many of them. They come around, they always do. The way I see it, after a while the sexual intimacy becomes secondary. I've come a full circle with some of them. We go our own ways, we live our own lives and yet sometimes we end up going home together and sleeping in each other's arms.

Life sometimes throws these little inside jokes and you can't help but marvel at how wonderfully weird it can get.


Anyway, it's Sunday and I have to mop the floors and pay the bills today. Mundane would be an understatement. My fingers are sore from playing too much guitar but like a drug I know I'll start getting itchy in a while and abandon domestic responsibilities to go noodle around for a little bit.



Sometimes in life, you have to jump into the sea without the safety of a floatation device. If you trust the universe, you'll always end up finding something to hold on to. I don't want to reach the shore. For now I'm happy swimming and not drowning. My floatation devices will help me withstand the scariest storms.
Trust.
It's always been more important than love.

Demon

The tentacles pull you further down into the deep, deep ocean. You're helpless like a child. You're running out of breath, you're forgetting how to swim.

How soon is now, how much longer?

Some days are harder than most, you try and yet you can't think of a reason to hold on. Letting go has never felt so easy. Write it all down on a piece of paper, articulate the thoughts and try to blame no one else but yourself.

The trance-like state induced by meditation starts to get harder, darker. There is a strange kind of manic euphoria. Like the queen who rises from the underbelly of shit and duplicity and destruction, you transcend. The moments are rare but you know, only you know that it exists. You're careful not to tell anyone. They wouldn't believe you, they haven't seen what's on the other side. It is difficult to fathom so they brush it away, going about their daily, circular existence. The loop goes on and on.That one infinite moment of peace (?)...is not for everyone, it is the most elusive, most sacred thing you can experience.

On nights you try to embrace sobriety, no longer feeling the urge to run away. What are you running from? You're running in circles, never ahead.

How soon is now? 

How soon is now? 

Eat your vegetables. Do your kegels. Don't let fuckboys mess with your head. 

Matriarch

Of what use is my voice if I don't lend it to those who are unable to speak, fight for themselves?  The instincts are starting to change, blossom in areas I assumed were dead and barren. There will be no turning point, turning back. There cannot be. If destiny is pre-determined then there is no choice, is there?  Awareness is optional, suffering is constant. 

"The Light Of My Life/The Fire Of My Loins"

The trouble with great literature is that it pushes you to explore sides of yourself you didn't know existed in the first place.  For a while it was a lot of fun. The climaxes, the look on their faces as they reached a point of ecstasy and delirium.  Sometimes I'll hear some of the voices, gently reminding me of what a nymph I've been to them. I have been cruel, but also always very loving. It's never about the future with me, I only want to create moments. But how long will this last, am I going run like this forever? Abandoment issues. Older men. The narcissistic cycle of love and destruction. But it has always been worth it. If I could do everything all over again, I wouldn't change a thing.  "পাগল মেয়ে, আমি ভয় পাই না।" 

molly

It's my first binge of the year and somehow I can't stop thinking about him.

I instinctively reach for my phone and he calls.

It's so fucking old-school.

Proper romance.

Butterflies in my stomach and all that. 

The ecstasy hits me. It's beautiful and it's pure. I dance I dance I dance.

I want to kiss him.

I want to hold him.

I want to make love to him.

I want him, so much.

It's only his company that I seek.

Oh this cute little thing, he's stolen my heart.

I haven't felt this way in so long, so long.

I want to love him. 

I only want to love him.

I want to love only him.

It's only day 18 and I guess I've made slight progress. It feels like everything is in motion. Risk it all, go big or go home.

But it is time. I need to finish this.

I have the greatest around me, helping me in every way. I want to do this. So bad so bad.

Songs About Lovers, so I can go back to loving one, being one. 

If there was a God,

It would be I.

It would be you.

We are all the same, only our purposes are different.

We come here for a reason, to leave behind a story so our kind can grow.

The ones who believe.

The universe tests my strength time and again. But I am not afraid. It also nurtures me to fill my soul a little bit more every day that I live. 

The compass always shows the way.

Sometimes you climb mountains, you swim oceans and you walk through deserts.

It is nothing but a test.

This life is nothing but a test.

I have faith. I still do. 

Redemption comes only to those who truly believe. 

I like his hands. His wrists. I've always been one for details. 

Lips. 

And eyes.

That is all I know for now. 

And yet,

there is a strange craving, 

I only want to give you my love. 

It's cold outside, you keep me warm.

But I don't want to sleep, I don't want you anymore.

Something's changed and I can't quite figure out what. 

It's probably me.

Yup.

It's me alright.

I feel nothing, nothing at all. 

I'm waiting for you to finish so I can go back home and sleep in my own bed, by myself. 

It's strange how time changes everything.

You're no longer you and I'm no longer me.

We're no longer who we used to be.

I'm not even sure why I'm here, with you.

I feel nothing, nothing at all. 

Is this it then, is this how it's supposed to be from now on?

This strange alienation; this endless void.

He plucked all the petals. Nothing remains of me anymore.

The beautiful little girl has been broken, there is no recovery, only acceptance. 

Oino

I want you.
I want you so much.
I want you, like a greedy child.

I want your body.
I want your touch.
I want your hands on me, caressing every inch.

I want your mouth, your eyes, your lips, your Adam's apple, your hands, your feet, your torso, your navel, your manhood. I want it all.
I want you.

I want to kiss you, taste you.
I want to caress you. I want to lick you. I want to bite you. I want to suck you dry. I want to see the madness in your eye, your throbbing heart and your erection. I want it all. Your beauty, your ugly.
I want to make you orgasm like no one else can, like no one else ever will.
I want to love you, I want to fuck you.

It doesn't matter if we have to let go eventually, I don't want to keep you forever.
I want you, one more time.

You.
You.
You.
Only you.
I want you.

I have faith. It's you I want. Come to me, won't you?

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ZJPjSaOcVwg

Existence

I am nothing.
I belong nowhere.
And yet, I am infinite.
I am the universe.



In my dream there is a beach, the sun and him. He says things I do not understand. But I remember his touch, the way he kissed. His hair, golden, shines in the light. I hold him. I hold him for a long time, I don't want to let go.
I am a monster in real life. We swim, we have a picnic of sorts. I love how his dog licks my face. For a second I wonder if I can pull this off for the rest of my life. Him, his dog, me and the sea.
I am a coward. I run every time things start to get a little bit serious, more concrete. He forgives me, he is pure like the water we swim in. There is no cruelty in his eyes, there is only love.
I run forward and run back. Back to him, for solace.

Mon cœur, je suis désolée..

You sometimes like instructions,

You like having no control.

And then you switch.

The hunted becomes the hunter, the lamb becomes the lioness.

It's not like how it was with him.

You're dry like the Sahara, so far away from the climax.

Abandon ship, abandon all hope. 

You want him, you know you do.

You want him one more time to fix all that was broken. 

But you no longer exist for him, you silly little girl.