There are days like this. It seems everything is spoiled by your touch. The right words aren’t chosen to say. Duties get piled up. Time is running out. People are critical. Some are demanding. Discrimination between different ranks exist. Unnecessary handshake made despite awkwardness. Trust turns out to be calculation in disguise. In such system, capacity matters, but so do fake politeness, dark politics, your father’s network and how much you’re willing to shelve your personal belief and put a blindfold to what is actually going on. I used to laugh at them, now I’m standing among them.
On days like this, sex is a rescue. Touch yourself, allow yourself to be touched, your mind go off for a minute. Sleep is easier. At least there is one quite moment where certain feelings stop looming over the window.
On days like this, you reminisce about what being in a relationship feels like. And then about what certain relationship with certain people feel like. And then what the most recent one. I always thought he was a good genuine guy who doesn’t mind hearing others’ problem. He still is I guess.