I like knowing things that other people don't. I like looking at a dry cleaner or a real estate office and knowing that there is a brothel tucked away in the back for anyone in the know to patronize. I tend to obsess over making the right decision and most of all I obsess over how others perceive me. Do I appear as cool as I think I do? Am I intimidating? How is my hair today? I also cry a lot. Not tough manly tears inadvertently rolling down my face, vaguely heroic. Not like proud drips of eye sweat as I stand stoically in protest of some great injustice. But I mean big sobbing baby tears, weeping powerful quakes of salty rain. I always feel better afterwards it's like some kind of emotional orgasm. There is nothing like spending hours fucking after a good cry. It's the ultimate foreplay. This obsession I guess is about reaching the limits of how much emotional abuse and confusion you can muster until you give in and yield to whoever or what ever makes you cry that much.. I am currently single.
- Ben Berkowitz