It's dark now when I write this.
It wasn't dark when I experienced this.
However I can't be sure what it was when I experienced it in my dreams, say mix a foggy night with a winter afternoon, I don't know if that mixed well or not.
Perhaps that's how it was when I experienced it in real.
A very calm soothing sensation, when it left me, almost as a part of myself was departing and yet uniting me with itself like it never was.
Every cell of my body rejuvenated, my brain wasn't doing any calculations but the flow was mechanical for an hour or so I believe.
But what I can't fathom is that why people talk bad about it.
When this climax arrives, when something unites you with your own body, I'm talking about that time. That precious moment isn't joy, don't confuse it with joy because it's a pity word, too cheap to use. Let's say a word which is a hundred times exaggeration of the word 'elation'. Such a word doesn't exist in dictionary. Not joking, I've spent hours looking for it but then I realized why to look for it. Chuck it.
I almost wrote, fuck it!
Something in me tells me that it was a part of me united with myself and a part of me united with the person.
The act is over. We both are at respective homes.
But there are a few questions which are kind of baffling me, haunting me or disturbing me.
Does it make me a whore-worshiper?
Does that act qualifies me as a s**-monger?
What did I do?
What is it, people call it no strings attached, like really, is it?
I remember the act.
I felt like that someone would place a microphone before my panting mouth and will ask me, 'How're you feeling?'
I don't really know how would I've replied to him/her in that situation. No, I don't know it. I tried to write a contrasting statement like seasoned writers but I really don't have anything to present as an answer.
There's this body lying beneath me which doesn't really need an introduction. The purpose of 'we' being on a bed together is nothing but..but...
You're thinking of a reason? You know what it makes both of you, bloody slut and a sex-seeker.
Do you get that?
You guys don't understand what love is all you need is sex. Isn't it true for more than half of your generation?
Hold on your moral horses.
I cannot possibly think of a plausible reason to be with the person except that we both wanted to make love. Yes and let me put it in quotes, 'love'. Wait, let me also honor it, 'Love'.
We do understand love and there's nothing being apologetic about making love to someone who wants to have it with you. Wants to experience it with you. It's my body, I'll choose who has the right to touch it, do things to it and with it. Without my consent nothing is love.
Well, we're blurring the lines between love and sex here. Maybe I'm not clear myself but one thing is crystal clear to me that there exists something which you don't want to hold for long and that is ephemeral, like this love was. It is as grandiose as celebrating love with your loved one for years, it's as pure as making love for the first time with the first love, for the first time with the second love and for the first time with the umpteen number of times love you encounter love in your life.
Let no one else's stupid moral predicaments affect your life.
It reminds me, someone is feeling awkward, 'Oh! I'm still inside you, sorry.'
"No not that, one more thing you're forgetting." I say, "What? What it is?"
"You're heavy," came the reply.
It's embarrassing to hear that but my body was feeling as light as a feather.
I'll listen to my feelings when I'm told I'm heavy. Huh..
I like such contradictory events.
And I love the way our society exists like a contradiction to itself.
And I love the way 'love' exist in whorehouses, hotel-rooms and quiet rooms of luxurious bungalows in South Delhi, say.
It wasn't dark when I experienced this.
However I can't be sure what it was when I experienced it in my dreams, say mix a foggy night with a winter afternoon, I don't know if that mixed well or not.
Perhaps that's how it was when I experienced it in real.
A very calm soothing sensation, when it left me, almost as a part of myself was departing and yet uniting me with itself like it never was.
Every cell of my body rejuvenated, my brain wasn't doing any calculations but the flow was mechanical for an hour or so I believe.
But what I can't fathom is that why people talk bad about it.
When this climax arrives, when something unites you with your own body, I'm talking about that time. That precious moment isn't joy, don't confuse it with joy because it's a pity word, too cheap to use. Let's say a word which is a hundred times exaggeration of the word 'elation'. Such a word doesn't exist in dictionary. Not joking, I've spent hours looking for it but then I realized why to look for it. Chuck it.
I almost wrote, fuck it!
Something in me tells me that it was a part of me united with myself and a part of me united with the person.
The act is over. We both are at respective homes.
But there are a few questions which are kind of baffling me, haunting me or disturbing me.
Does it make me a whore-worshiper?
Does that act qualifies me as a s**-monger?
What did I do?
What is it, people call it no strings attached, like really, is it?
I remember the act.
I felt like that someone would place a microphone before my panting mouth and will ask me, 'How're you feeling?'
I don't really know how would I've replied to him/her in that situation. No, I don't know it. I tried to write a contrasting statement like seasoned writers but I really don't have anything to present as an answer.
There's this body lying beneath me which doesn't really need an introduction. The purpose of 'we' being on a bed together is nothing but..but...
You're thinking of a reason? You know what it makes both of you, bloody slut and a sex-seeker.
Do you get that?
You guys don't understand what love is all you need is sex. Isn't it true for more than half of your generation?
Hold on your moral horses.
I cannot possibly think of a plausible reason to be with the person except that we both wanted to make love. Yes and let me put it in quotes, 'love'. Wait, let me also honor it, 'Love'.
We do understand love and there's nothing being apologetic about making love to someone who wants to have it with you. Wants to experience it with you. It's my body, I'll choose who has the right to touch it, do things to it and with it. Without my consent nothing is love.
Well, we're blurring the lines between love and sex here. Maybe I'm not clear myself but one thing is crystal clear to me that there exists something which you don't want to hold for long and that is ephemeral, like this love was. It is as grandiose as celebrating love with your loved one for years, it's as pure as making love for the first time with the first love, for the first time with the second love and for the first time with the umpteen number of times love you encounter love in your life.
Let no one else's stupid moral predicaments affect your life.
It reminds me, someone is feeling awkward, 'Oh! I'm still inside you, sorry.'
"No not that, one more thing you're forgetting." I say, "What? What it is?"
"You're heavy," came the reply.
It's embarrassing to hear that but my body was feeling as light as a feather.
I'll listen to my feelings when I'm told I'm heavy. Huh..
I like such contradictory events.
And I love the way our society exists like a contradiction to itself.
And I love the way 'love' exist in whorehouses, hotel-rooms and quiet rooms of luxurious bungalows in South Delhi, say.
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