Ah, yes. Lamotrigine, check. Warm bath? Check. Instrumental Spotify playlist for writers? Check.
Had crazy allergies today. Went in to pick up my prescription at Bartells; stopped at the Nome first to grab some tea. Saw old homeboy Brent Carter behind the counter, shot the breeze a little. Nose was a goddamn waterspout so while I was there I must've blown it thirty times. Them little napkins were gettin a workout.
Brent is a great dude. The kind of dude I've always loved being friends with: hardworking, loyal, good to his woman, a good father (and dog father), kind to his coworkers, respectful and prompt with the customers, and on top of everything a wicked awesome singer/songwriter. Vaudeville Gallows is still one of my favorite bands. Hopefully he gets back into the game at some point when he doesn't need to work sixty hours a week.
His dog is super special too. Kona. What a fuzzy angel. She's gettin old; little white whiskers pokin through on the muzzle.
Claritin's kicking in, snot trail beginning to slow. It's good because the area below my nostrils is starting to get inflamed from wiping.
Sinus feels stuffy. Body feels cozy, bath water just a little on the cool side of awesome.
Music is super chill. Stomach's growling but I don't care. This moment is what I'm digging. I'm soaking it in because once the L kicks in my ecstasy/chill vibe may go away.
Sex Drive came back a few days ago. It's nice; makes things domestically a little easier, more connected. I worry .
It seems like the average person doesnt realize how deeply our sexual systems are linked with our mental state. As one philosopher said "the brain is our largest errogenous zone". It's why the crazy person is often the best sex of your life; they're riding waves of confused feelings that either compel intensity or cause them so much distress the intensity of sex is a temporary antidote to it.
For those whose sexual drives aren't pushed by strong emotion, the brain still has an influence. Maybe you have a set of smells that get you going, a certain kind of music or film that puts you in the right mood. Maybe it's a look in her eyes, the way her breath gets quicker and shallower as she realizes it's about to be on.
For a sex and love addict, sex can be a beautiful minefield. For me, the most passionate sex is the new kind, The result of a love hunt: the way her eyes meet mine, the way our hands interlock, the way she glides around the room attracting my stares. The stare has weight; it pulses with the blood.
Of course now I'm in a committed and, for the first time, healthy relationship. New romance is out, replaced by a love that is safe and supportive. Gettin up for that kind of sex can be tricky.
Sinking lower into the shallow water. Back hunched against the porcelain, temp just right, stomach still yawning. Music buzzing between my fingers as I type. Worried that my partner may not appreciate my heavy-duty sharing, breath is a little tight.
She moves me. When I let myself indulge those old romantic swells, I remember why I love her. I let myself moon a little. Kiss her on the top of the head in front of company. Show her that I care. Close touching in the kitchen as she gets ready for the party.
Nose is mostly dried. Breathing a bit easier. Head thick but thinking isn't too distorted.
Should I get out?
Going to interview a prospective tenant later. She seems cool, good taste, possibly artistic. Bringing the boyfriend so I can assess him too. Running a studio, podcasting, watching shows, and having people over, I'm gonna need to make sure they aren't antisocial. I've got that covered enough, lol.
Guess I should get out of the tub already. This one's fuckin long.
See you on the flip side, gang. If this roommate doesnt work out, I'll still need one. If I can't find one I'm gonna be bruh-hoke. Everything is Awesome and Mailman Studios need disposable income to run effectively. Get in touch. At the very least an interview could be fun. Think of it like an audition.
Time to shower off. Hair is itchy and stomach is positively angry.
Love you guys!