While gooning

UGA BUGA ME BEAT SHAFT MEAT

Post nut clarity

Dear Diary,

I have come to the realization that I am my own worst enemy. For what feeds a mans desires also slowly kills himself. Not just his self in terms of his shell, but all that he is and would ever stand for.

I have no desires anymore for the comfort of a woman’s embrace and no longer day dream about a home filled with the sounds of children playing. I can no longer smell the sweet smell of holiday feasts or hear the sound of laughter from two families joined as one.

My own bed is a prison, I its prisoner. My connection to the world is the needle that feeds heroin into my veins. I fear I can no longer make or feel connections of any kind beyond those blissful 15 minutes of self gratification.