Rush Rush Rush

I cannot think. Most of my thoughts are all inwards on Martine, and those feelings I cannot describe. There’s too much. What an incredible, amazing lover he is, he’s not sent me a single message all day. I know he’s obsessed with Jeffery Sachs and Bono, so it’s excusable, but how marvelous. He’ll kill me.

I went out to meet a photographer this afternoon, he likes calling himself Video, so let’s just call him that. He’s the dude that spends 6 months each year sleeping around Asia, and plans to do it till he’s 80. I thought at first I’d try to find out why he did what he did. I mean, what was the fucking point? Don’t you feel empty? But then I realized that it was none of my business, and that I didn’t want to care. Maybe he feels empty, but it’s all buried so deep inside it doesn’t matter very much anymore.

My sister had a parents are away so lets trash the house party last night. It was fun. One whole lot of drunk 14 year old girls making out with each other. I got one to give me a hickey. When I got sober today and saw it in the mirror, I though, damn man, if I told Martine the truth, would he believe me? Incredible, but I actually feel beholden to him. I tried to loan two of the girls my new vibrator (it’s very, very slender. One of those clit pencils), but they didn’t use it eventually.

I had bought it in the afternoon because I’d wanted to do some kinky shit with Martine. I was reading the story of O for much for the day, and therefore was feeling very horny and very BDSM all day.

Arriving at his place in the afternoon, I asked him if he was feeling well. (Quite allright, better, but I’m still god-awfully exhausted).

‘Um… can I still give you a massage?’
‘If you want to, of course!’
‘Um… and can I lick your balls.’
‘Yeah.’ (He said it like, what kind of question is that.)
‘And your ass.’
He laughed. ‘Yes.’
‘I was afraid I might kill you. Anyway, can I do it while you’re blindfolded.’
‘Yes.’ But he said this bit with a little, sounds like fun, but I’m really sick, could we save if for another time, sort of tone.

I really did want to stick the vibrator up his ass. The only other person I’d ever wanted to do such a weird thing to was Mr. Big. What a long time ago that seems like now!

I spent the day illustrating a kinky comic in the café, with lots of people watching on. How amusing. And some dude who picked me up at the club called. He wants to lay me.

‘All women want to get attached to men they sleep with, I’m afraid of that.’
‘I’m not into attachment, don’t worry.’
‘Yeah, you and the rest of the male species. Men will say anything to get laid, you didn’t even get what I was trying to say.’
‘ I’m really not into attachment. I like having fun, you know. Don’t worry, I won’t be a problem.’
‘Huh? Well, we can meet for coffee if you want to, but I must tell you, I’m a lot of work.’

I don’t think I’ll respond to him any more. He doesn’t even have a job, for Christ sake’s. And besides, I cannot think of anything But you-know-who.

xoxox