Wednesday, December 31, 2008

" Be always at war with your vices, at peace with your neighbors, and let each new year find you a better man."

It was cold and the elevators were all fucked. The one that worked was long and I had to wait for 10 minutes. I live on the 30th floor, so running down is done while really fucking high, or not at all.
Today I saw her, my perfect slave. She was short and plump, lip pierced and horn-rimmed glasses.
I would make her beg me to fuck her in the ass while I neutralized her in a head-lock.
She looked at me long and I knew that she wanted cock.

There was only one elevator working today and the one I took stopped at every floor.
She got on a floor below me. I was already in banter, dry and aloof, with the Scottish doctor who lives on the 31st floor. We joked about rent and heat and when she got on I saw her watch me and that's when I knew I could make her do bad things.

She watched me and I knew she was fucking me in her imagination.
I wanted to say, "Take a number, baby.", but I have not had sex in a long time. Although I don't feel badly about it I do want to fuck, so I say nothing.
I was cute and funny for 29 floors and she bought it and we fantasy-fucked for 20 floors.
That's how I am calling in tonight.
But man, she was such a slut. I would tie her and would 20-to-10 bet my buddies to fuck her. She would be my whore, but I'd love her unconditionally.
And I would make her come every day and as much as I could.

We all joked and then parted ways when the elevator hit the lobby.
I had an erection and walked to the liquor store. It felt good to press against it and the streets were fine, warm even.

I hope the elevator breaks tomorrow, too.
I like the community and I want to eat the cunt of that fine young one I saw today.
I think I could fuck her glasses right off, I'd need her on all fours, though.
Then I would come deep inside her.

Happy New Year.
I hope you get your wee bits sucked.

-Love Sid Heart

Monday, December 15, 2008

"The greater part of what my neighbors call good I believe in my soul to be bad, and if I repent of anything, it is very likely to be my good"

I examined every bit of information, every clue, when I was 16. By 21 I was ruined. By 35 I am a wreck; if you like IKEA.
I am walking and digging it all and will not describe any of it.
I do know, though, that walking is all that matters, anyhow.
See you soon.

Saturday, December 13, 2008

"Sweet Helen, make me immortal with a kiss. Her lips suck forth my soul: see where it flies. Come, Helen, come, give me my soul again."

That's Sumiko on the right and Fumika on the left. I met them at the Sapporo Beer Festival. They worked as office staff for Toshiba, out in the stix, like Nopporo or something, I forget. But I do remember that Sumiko invited me to her apartment, Fumika came too. When we got there, we just drank beer and laughed. I did my best to explain "truth or dare" in Japanese and they were quickly into it. After an hour we were all drunk. Fumika kissed me once as a dare and then Sumiko had to match it. It was fun. I was hard and wanted to fuck.
They wore their summer yukata all night. We laughed together and did stupid things. I tried to balance an open milk-jug on my nose. After a while longer I dared Fumika to touch my cock. She took three drinks before she tried. Fumika was embarrassed, I could tell; her cheeks were flushed and her mouth hung open. Soon we all kissed.
After we had sex I got dressed and wanted to go. Sumiko wanted to exchange numbers and email, Fumika slept and I resisted and crept out into the black night.
I drove home that night, drunk as fuck, but I was so pleased at the random love I had encountered. I thought of it all night, and the next day too.
I love yukatas on the JR from Sapporo to Tomakomai.
I'll go back just for that, that headiness.

Friday, December 12, 2008

"I know now that there is no one thing that is true - it is all true."

It has been a while since I fell asleep to the sound of waves breaking. I have done it many times but I don't remember it well. The last time in bright recall was in Vietnam. Before that was on the island of Malapascua in the Philippines. The Visayan Sea there rocked me to sleep many nights. I spent a few weeks there and learned to drink hard, and watch the stars. There were no tourists, really, because it was an 'undiscovered' island for tourists and also the Abu Sayyaff crisis was is full swing. I watched Philippine Navy boats park there and got drink drunk with them, night after night. We went to some small-town disco and I don't remember the rest. But I always arrived safe and sound around my hut. Several times I slept on the beach, unable to find my place or just too damn drunk.
Those mornings were hard as the sun shone fully and the waves slammed into me and the children tried to sell me plastic bottles filled with sea shells. But I remember the thunder from the waves the best.
These nights, now, I fall asleep to that sound of waves breaking. My new apartment is right next to the ocean and I spend at least an hour every day looking out the window and feeling grateful.
I can look up and into the mountains or to my left, and far out to sea. Waves.
I quit my job to ride a wave, not even a real wave, but a percieved momentum. I wanted time to pursue what I love.
I am still doing construction on the side; I love it and could never give it up entirely. Now I am just doing private renovations, etc.
Tomorrow morning I have to wipe the vodka-sleep from my eyes and finish with a basement suite. It looks nothing like a place one could live now, but it is taking shape; and that's the part I love the best.
I finished insulating the place today, and I was thinking of the future tenants and how they would never know, nor even think of the time I spent carefully making sure that they would be warm. When I was looking at the pipes that would soon be the shower and toilet I thought of a woman in her early twenties, her first rental, first place on her own. I thought of her in the shower that I was installing. If only she knew, but maybe she did already. Do women think of the nubile construction workers who installed their showers whilst they shower? They should. We think of them.