just left

mmm i think the watching of hibike euphonium im doing tips hate-

need to figure out a way to integrate smth surgery-like into my routines, i infer from back of the head tingles that the whispering crackle of screw penetrating plywood caused

pendulum pspspspsspspspsp less pockets in clothing please, mass market quality tailoring pants and shorts and dresses and skirts seldom can take the extra folds and flaps of fabric. nothing thicker than phone goes in your pocket, unless ure wearing a puff jacket. and nothing as stiff or heavy as phone goes into pocket of fabric less stiff than jean. stop dampering my appreciation of ur beautiful lines dude 

its such a shame im not participating in dating and thus dont have a partner to indulge me in fun kinky activity of you lie dressed on your back looking straight ahead entirely unmoving until ive had enough of that

experiencing repeat of the configuration that notably emerged during prior period of electing not to masturbate to anything explicitly erotic: paralysing violent urge and desperate craving for some elusive glimpse of 'perfection' that is supposed to comfort me in overwhelm of finding self entangled by filth. as in, writing this i couldn't bring myself to open a google tab to look up a word due to intense reflexive disgust, and had to delete a few keysmashes. i need to hear liszt's hungarian rhapsody played by a chamber string orchestra in a way that satisfies criteria i struggle to express. couldn't find anything that fit trudging through revolting sludge of youtube search. it may stem from undercurrent of sorry state of my libido to an ephemeral intractable infatuation, entirely unrelated to any of you, that currently rests at the most delicate, delicious apex due to goldilocks morsels of tangible. its so lovely and valuable to explore borderlands of my emotional range