Good Thoughts, Bad Thoughts

I told Joe I had had unsafe sex but it was just a few seconds, which was the truth, with Keith, the guy from the very same place with him in the States. Did I feel bad? Yes. Since Joe made me promise not to have unsafe sex with anybody, and partly since he had just been gone for a few days. I was surprised by my own ability to hold a commitment.

But at the same time, I allowed myself to do it not because Keith brought me some novels nor because he was a married man that gave incredibly irresistibly good head, that he let me cum in his mouth and let it dripped over the head of my cock before sucking it all it again, but because in the back of my mind, I thought of what Joe said before he asked me about the future: “It is OK, I don’t like it but I accept it.” I held on to it as an excuse, as a life saver before drowning, just like in any previous times.

“You can accept it, but I can’t.” It was my reply. I felt the need to make him aware of the situation he was going to get involved in. But at the same time I didn’t know how to explain to him that it would drive me mad seeing or knowing him giving another man the same thing he gave to me. I guess in the end, after all of the previous lessons, it is still hard to be less selfish. Who will accept that? And if there’s somebody who can accept that, would I be able to let that person live with it for his whole life?

I found a Youtube channel a year ago. All of the videos, the footage, and the music slowly paced into the visual wonder, hit so close to a spot inside my stomach. That empty spot. When I was thinking too much, I remembered a video of Funkadelic’s track in the 70s that that person did. What was special about it was not just how in-sync everything was but also that one comment someone had left behind.

“I’m sorry such terrible thoughts and feelings have run across the dark alleys of your mind and sincerely hope that each day you may feel a bit better,” it said.

Isn’t that the whole point of writing, in any forms, in songs, stories, or anything, to be read, to be witnesed by another living thing, to be reminded that there are still people out there that could touch you and let you touch them in return?

This entry was published on October 28, 2016 at 11:49 pm. It’s filed under Joey and tagged , , , . Bookmark the permalink. Follow any comments here with the RSS feed for this post.

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