maturetvslut (maturetvslut) wrote,

Sunday 26th September 2010.

The clock ticks,but then is that not always so,each tick a reminder,that time is passing at an alarming rate,there was a time when such a concept was far from my imagination,then in youth time did indeed seam to stand still, school summer holidays was one,sundays was another,it is the sundays which seam to crowd my mind most as i stare at the clock the time 3am on this Sunday morning.
I have found with age sleep comes in mere hours rather than the long nights,it does have one advantage being the demons do not plague me so much, maybe they are more powerful in the visions they portray however i have not made my mind up on that score quite yet.
One thing that has not changed is how easy it is to take myself out from a crowd and simply become a fly on the wall voyeurism at its height sticky night heat in busted bra's torn stockings in goose pimple flesh each muscle that moved became a radar chugging thought after thought an express train on collision through the trough plated voyeurism.
Last night i sat through all this,until my eyes told me they were soon to retire for the day,a battle i did not want to loose,as i had not feasted on such for quite a while, yet coupled with that common courtesy stoned into us way back in the sixties i had to leave this modern dream playing before my eyes.
After all these years i have come to the conclusion that the fly in the ointment was a shield against boarding school bullying,had i been bullied to suck cocks time memories might have played a different game, the fly on the wall might not have grown to oblivious opiate size i have let it drift through my body until the fly is simply there.
Last night i was sat in one of those American themed burger bars a posh McDonald's with waiters, in amongst all the flesh giggling,shouting, singing,the pounding music,the classic rock pictures,classic sepia movie stills,stood a life size nasa space suit,as i sat amongst the mad passionate flesh my eyes lingering over the whiteness,the dark glass face,i wondered how hard it was for a transvestite to cope during that time how on earth did they obtain suspender belts stockings,when such places i was sat in were not even on the drawing boards of this green easy it is to slip into such a mode with such thoughts perhaps eventually being a transvestite becomes a way of life never turned off in any 24 hours.

  • Post a new comment


    Anonymous comments are disabled in this journal

    default userpic

    Your IP address will be recorded