It’s funny how some images go straight through you…
Wait, let’s back it up a bit first.
I have been in a serious writer’s rut these past couple of weeks. Outside of a handful of porn screenplays (which are obviously very fun, but also more mind power-demanding and time-consuming than I would have anticipated) the last fresh words I put to page were these musings about how erotic the sea can be. I wrote that the same day it was published, which apparently was August 28th. That’s one day shy of two weeks ago.
And I haven’t really written a blip of anything since.
But, I’ve tried to do my best. I keep diligently checking back on all the prompts for all the memes to see if anything might click. I pull up the photos and open a fresh word document. And then I just… stare at the screen until I can’t bare the glaring blink of my immovable cursor a moment longer.
Nothing. Nada. Zero desire to string letters together.
The weather has been violently bipolar lately, as it has been most of this summer. It’s been too damn hot to process words properly, and the sudden shoots and drops of pressure around aggressive thundershowers has been hard on the body and the mind. When it’s literally your entire job to read and write, that’s a massive problem. The frustration and feelings of inadequacy that follow don’t help to inspire much either.
In the meantime, I’ve turned to the works of others. Furiously poring over their words the best I can under these conditions, combing them for something more than they asked for.
I am editing them because that’s the responsibility I have been charged with, that I have graciously accepted. But right now, I also do it with the secret, ruthless, selfish need to absorb some of their power in my desperate search for inspiration.
Earlier today, I was almost at the point of my cycle where I resign myself to the possibility that my words and feelings have dried up for good.
Then this one came along.
I have no idea what it is about it yet. I only just looked at it. But from the very first glance, it spoke some sweet nothings to me in a language I recognize but don’t quite understand. My attention was caught by the classy black and white mixed with classic maid look. And my gaze was held by the fluffy red phallus in her hands.
It’s so bizarre and not a little magical… After weeks of creative and sexual dormancy, I have awoken. Reminded that following every death, there is another birth.
Poetry aside: I am incredibly turned on by this simple photograph right now.
And the longer I contemplate it through this series of live sentences, the more powerful the hum between my legs seems to become.
There’s nothing obviously pornographic, hardly even suggestive about this photo. Yet all the potential it promises is overwhelming my sensorial capacity…
Now, I find myself sitting here in this crowded coffee shop… I’ve been here struggling through my work for over 5 hours now. But it’s taken me until right now to finally look around at everyone else here. I wonder if any of them are feeling what I’m feeling right now. Am I the only one who is this unabashedly aroused in this moment? How likely is it that I am unwittingly sharing an intimate experience with another secret sex writer? Maybe someone in this room has received a cheeky photo from a bold lover?
Well, fuck. Now I feel the tension sneaking all the way up my carotid arteries. The excitement is literally rising to my brain and I’m getting a little dizzy.
I’m not mad about it. Mostly, I’m in awe. I’ve crossed my legs to keep my heart from falling right out of my throbbing pussy. That would be a little embarrassing – there are a lot of people here and I would hate to make the barista mop up my mess.
It’s incredible how quickly the (little) switch (bitch) can flip you some days.
Thank you, Masturbation Monday, for your unassuming magic. It was exactly what I needed today.
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