Because Marcus Aurelius said so!

You simply can't help but realize some thoughts should be synchronized once a month when you meet a man called Marco from Venice who tells you you have a great body right after you literally licked his feet...usually that happens before no? Just to say that sexdrive has always been a volatile factor for me. From the fat chemistry teacher who taught me about painful sodomy, to the ménage à trois in some Saw I to III-looking shower.

While my personae depends on patterns, familiarity and synchronization I can't help but giggle at the fact that "sex" seems to lead a life on its own somewhere in the background. It does have fangs and claws of course (HIV projection onto others isn't exactly a synonym for "hello how are you"), but when you hear the sweet French phrase "j'adore ton cul", you simply fumble into a bottomless pit where you forget to hate yourself for just a moment.Yet my ferocious chain of self-denial does seem like a valid reason to put world domination on my wish list, and even more of a reason to slap someone in the face and tell them it should simply be handed to me because I "deserve" it...of course, in this futile fantasy nobody asks me "why" I deserve it...because I used to set the table when I was 13? Right before dear old father threw a bowl of hot stew in mommy's face? And why do I never have the urge to write about more items such as the latter? At least those items seem "worth" reading...which is in turn a very visceral sign that I simply remain utterly apathetic towards the circumstantial events that led to the creation of Yves-Ismael.

Loathing was ever-present this month...from ignoring R. in our favourite bar, to yelling at the French immigrant for saying "yeah you have a little tummy, but you're fuckin' sexy!" ...of course this translates as"you're fat" in my dogmatic brain. Simply casting people away who have been alongside you for years and would have stayed alongside you for many more seems like a foolish thing to do...not to mention destroying people who tried to love you in every possible way...I reckon they all ended up hurt by my inabily to put certain issues in perspective, but when does inability become refusal? And how much more will this nazi form of censorship detract from me? If it didn't work out for Hitler...

I have often wondered about a certain premise that has been lodged in my head since I became self-aware of my body...how is it that the standard of "beauty" (or in homosexual terms: please work out more and mind the fatty food) imposed onto most people, is the only value that society managed to effectively rub off on me? Why did society never manage to instill truth, beauty of thought and a higher degree of awareness about what is right and what is wrong...strangely enough, I find myself doing more effort to actually "care" about it...on the other hand, you can't help but admire some people who have the same thought, drain the ideology behind it and wrap it around them like a blanket while whispering to us that "it's ok"...here's to "Wipke Knut", cheers.