My Chaotic Life - 8. Poetic Justice of A One Night Stand

I feel sick, diseased and lifeless. I saw the darkest parts of myself today and struggled with the reality long after the hope of ever changing had faded into fantasy. I'm dirty and in need of a shower. Have you ever fucked someone for the sole purpose of trying to feel alive?

I washed the sheets today, they were stained and filled with memories I'd rather forget. His name was, Alex, and I met him at Nola's last night after I got off work. He was tall, skinny, brunet with a lop-sided grin. In a bar filled with straight women and ugly old fags, he was the only one I'd fuck with the lights on. It was pathetic, awkward, and unfulfilling. A coupling where all you really want is to cum as fast as possible just so the night would be over. Have you ever fucked someone for the sole purpose of trying to feel alive?

His breath smelled of beer and cigarettes, even after I made him rinse out with Mouthwash. A putrid smell I swear I can still smell on my dick, hours after I mid him adieu. But tonight I needed a dumpster, a stranger, someone I would never have to see again. Release is primal, and jerking off only takes you so far. Have you ever fucked someone for the sole purpose of trying to feel alive?

I saw stains on my carpet, I wonder if Resolve would truly remove them? Alex was cute, tall and gangly but way too much body hair. I've seen less hair in old 70's porno movies. I told him to get his situation under control; it's 2007 for Christ's sake. He couldn't have weighed more than one-hundred-and-forty pounds, and stood at least six foot three. At first I had fears of breaking him in half, though that fear faded once primal urge took over. When he stripped off his clothes, I admit, I was a bit surprised. Because a monster cock fell out of his boxers that looked enormous on his small frame. And though I know cocks always look bigger on skinny guys, his was huge. And I found this endowment rather amusing because he was a total bottom. This gives me a small belief in the idea of a god. Because on the twisted god of the christians would have the sense of humor to give a total cock slut like Alex such a monster cock. Have you ever fucked someone for the sole purpose of trying to feel alive?

Have sex with Alex was like fucking a box of ice, cold and slightly numbing. The noises he made were small and in the wrong places. I thought at first he was simply going through the motions, but his freaky cock was hard the entire time. I don't think he came, though sex was never about him in the first place. Have you ever fucked someone for the sole purpose of trying to feel alive?

I washed my sheets today, three times; I think they might still be dirty. Or maybe it's just the grime I sense inside myself. His name was Alex, and he told me he was just out of a two month relationship with his once confused best friend. I wonder why all gay boys crush on their straight best friends? Again my belief in a god doubles. At Nola's, he told me he was tired of jerking off and sleeping alone. All he wanted from me on this random night was some human contact and a bit of compassion. I guess one out of two isn't bad. Have you ever fucked someone for the sole purpose of trying to feel alive?

I scrubbed my carpets this morning, early, right after I told him to leave my apartment. I can still see the look on his face, a sad look of quiet acceptance. It was heartbreaking to see a fellow human so broken, so conditioned by the world to believe the notion that having sex with another male is morally wrong. I saw hints of tears in his blue eyes as he quickly pulled on his clothes. Alex is still young, young enough to have delusions about one day finding true love and lasting commitments. In the brief time he spent in my bed, I think I might have jaded him, tarnished his golden armor, and set him on a path to becoming another jaded fag, just like me. Have you ever fucked someone for the sole purpose of trying to feel alive?

His name was Alex, and he was beautiful. His hair smelled of honey and mixed berries. I can still smell his designer cologne on my skin. And his breath was intoxicating, a mixture of beer and cigarettes that always drove me wild. Young and filled with passion, Alex was a tiger in the bedroom. The sex, though primal, was filled with passion and sweat. Why does the innocence smell sweeter before the act, while afterwards it reeks of guilt and self-loathing? Have you ever fucked someone for the sole purpose of trying to feel alive?

I washed myself four times today, I still feel dirty though. Scrubbing the stains from my carpet was something I could control. Elbow grease works, my carpet is once again spotless. Just like my shower, the fourth time I showered I spent most time scrubbing it. My skin smells like 409 Bathroom Cleaner. My toes and hands are wrinkled, and I don't think I'll ever feel clean again. Have you ever fucked someone for the sole purpose of trying to feel alive?

Have you just fucked someone over?

Have You?