Tuesday, 22 September 2009

Dry patch vs. wet patch

The idea behind this blog was to get my sex-obsessed thoughts channelled and assist my dirty mind concentrate on life but it seems to have had the opposite effect!
I still read as many sex related articles, I masturbate the same amount if not more frequently, I imagine what most men I meet would be like naked and as lovers, I may now be worse what with venturing into unknown (to me) realms of London nightlife.
I've spent the last two months or so in my head: I've turned down exes, potential new lovers and even invites for a 'coffee' - as I was too busy being neurotic and deliberating with myself the rights and wrongs of casual sex, allowing other people's opinions cloud my own judgement. I seem to have only sexually repressed friends who have been making me doubt my sexual frankness.
That, listening to others, ends here. That ends now. (I suppose officially it stopped before I met with Jason last night)
I got talking to a young (in her mid-twenties maybe) woman at the fetish night who had a brilliant attitude that I am adopting for myself: "I'm going to regret what I do, not what I don't".
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