Thursday, 14 May 2015


Mid way through my first Executive Committee meeting, at the beginning of my second month with this new job.

A few interesting attendees, from some inspiring organisations.

Updates and opinions.

Isn't so much of it common sense though?
Sporadically bordering on the tedious.

Every other person, at least, is a white-haired veteran of the field.
Seems a lot of people come to these events for a "day out"...

I'd like a "day out" from my mind.
Reprieve from fantasies.
A "day-in" to concentration.


This isn't a "high sex drive" week, this is supposed to be a "withdrawal" period.

Why is it, what is it, this counter-chemical, Pavlovian tick... Whenever I see the EYWC typography I feel arousal creeping in. Mingling with guilt, self-loathing and "loss".

There's a lot to lose focus on, work-wise.
All-day meetings.
70+ page newsletters.
A new online course in "spare" time, too.

I'm supposed to be thinking about policies.
Learning about our member organisations and seeking out potential, prospective new ones...


Supposed to.

It's pouring with rain today. I want to be under a thick duvet, twisting and curling, tickled, stroked and stoked. I want to learn about new things, old memories from new people.
What films shall we watch, what'll we listen too, can I get you a snack, will it be satisfactory?

Can it be satiated?

The weight of you, about me. 
A dispersal of my own form.
Your breath on me. 

I hold you.

The shock of unity. 
Skin and hair and limbs entangling.



I'm thinking about lips on necks and fingers brushing arms. 
Hands stroking cheeks and noses touching.
Staring into eyes until it unsettles, or stirs.
Teeth tentatively nibbling ears, until eagerness takes over.
No blood drawn.
Shadows of shivers and thoughts of future sensations.

Suppress it.