Still preoccupied with Tumblr.
It’s such a marvelous tool. An archeological dig through ones own history of ideas.
Everything is there on the internet. Nothing is hidden from me. Then, they come…liking and reblogging and commenting.
They like the most unusual things. Like the picture of Marilyn Manson.
Yesterday, I hired an assistant. Had a long chat with Robby. Dealt with my tax bill. Spoke to my wonderful lawyers at the ACLU. Cooked dinner. Watched Jennifer cut up a wheel of cheese. Spent hours looking for a certain picture.
Then, I lay in my bed wondering when I will see that boy up North who wants me to take what ever I want from him.
I’m waiting for you, he says.
I look at pictures of him. I imagine what it would be like to find another to fuck him. To watch him suck someone else.
He wants me to be unspeakably hard on him. And, I shall.
Tell me, I like it when you tell me what to do…he murmurs. Control me. Take me. Love me.
He is waiting.