It's Monday afternoon. I called insick. I think I am sick, like really sick, as if my insides want tocome out. I've never been so burnt, so tired,...so sore and somelancholy. I'm becoming depravity personified. I don't know what todo. Just feels good to put paper to pen and recap the fucked up thingsthat are happening to me. Feels sometimes like I'm writing a porno.I'm not trying to, this is just my life. [Author note: and it wasreaders - this is real.]I had agreed with Jack that I. I struggle with getting the door closed all the way, so you lean over and do it for me, slamming it soundly. As you do, your hand brushes against my my hard nipples on accident. I hear myself gasp and feel my crotch grow just a little warmer. You hastily apologize. I say its okay... The next few moments are spent in awkward silence at the stop sign as we wait for a long line of cars to move. Its busy for a cold night. You gently ask me directions to my house, and I direct you through the. More

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