“Every fear hides a wish” – David Mamet
Tomorrow cannot be Monday. Tomorrow cannot be Monday. Tomorrow cannot be Monday. I only just started my weekend. Now I know exactly how all those workers feel when they make memes about Mondays and weekends. I always thought it was a bit too exaggerated. I mean I did final year of course and had no problem with Mondays. Absolutely none. Everyday was the same to me.
In final year I was striving for something I wanted. A personal goal. But at work, you’re striving to achieve someone else’s goal. I mean since I am not the owner of the company so it’s not my goal. I am just coming to work and fulfilling my duties just to get paid.
I wonder if I will feel like this all through my working life till I reach retirement age. Perhaps when I have my own company, I might start to look forward to Mondays again.
I am so bored right now. I don’t even know why I am writing. I am pretty sure this will be my most incoherent and uninteresting post yet.
Today is unlike any day I have had for the past two months. Usually my day is so jam-packed with activities that keep me so busy that by the time I am done, all I have to do is fall asleep till the next day. Today is different. I did all I could possibly do with my free time yesterday. How silly of me. I should have left some chores for today.
So I go to church and come around noon. I already have a pre-cooked meal so I just warm it up, I dry the washed dishes, watch a movie and I check the time, it is still 2pm. I watch another movie and time suddenly has decided to stand still. I am out of what to do. I don’t look forward to going back to work tomorrow but I also do not want to be idle. I try to read a book, I drop it. Pick up another one, I drop that one too. Now I properly understand why listlessness is defined as having or showing little interest or no interest in anything. I do not even want to write anymore. Since I am out of things to do, I have decided to do something risky. I decide to post a sample of an imagination my very perverted brain churned up.
I do this dance everyday. It’s impossible to sleep without going through the motions of this dance. Today I have refused to give in. But how can I not? It’s my lullaby. My brain is messed up I know that. But for my sanity and the peace of everyone I have to do this dance. They say insomnia causes irritability. I do not want to resort to benzodiazepines therefore this is my own form of sedative. I daydream it, and then I gradually fall asleep.
I close my eyes, this time we are at our house by the sea side. I hear the sound of the waves crashing over the shore. Breeze drifts in through the door kept ajar. You lounge against the door propped open, regarding me intensely. I squirm on the sofa, rather uncomfortable at the attention. Your sculpted lips twitch then, into a careless smile.
For a brief second, I imagined bringing that chiseled jaw of yours down on mine and crushing my lips against yours. Only that you wouldn’t let me do that. Or rather I was currently immobile as you had me sprawled apart and bound to the sofa. I was yours to command. I sighed longingly and deeply then.
Of course, from the arrogant curve of your lips, you knew exactly what I was thinking.
You never learn do you. You can only sigh when I want you to.”
Your eyes blaze like the biblical furnace that I have heard stories of, and I feel your hunger as your eyes roams freely from my bosom and my desire tightens across my belly.
In three short strides, you covered the distance between us.
My gaze lingers at your folded sleeves, unbuttoned collar and loose tie, admiring the rippled rail-like tracks on your arm and imagining what it would feel like to unfasten the rest of your buttons and pull you free of them. They are only just blocking my view of course. I realised then, that I was staring.
I heard a low growl and you sank into the sofa, your teeth nipping at my ears slowly and torturously. Your arms coiled around my waist, tightening possessively as you cradled my back. Your lips zigzagged it’s way from my ears to the tip of my nose, back to my eyelids. I moaned. I needed to feel your lips on mine now.
He tasted of lemon, gin and reckless abandon, and my lips parted instinctively as his tongue slid into my mouth. His kiss was forceful and I found myself slipping under his control, my body moulding against his as I quake under the heat of our embrace.
His tongue flicked against my teeth repeatedly, almost lazily, and my mouth opens wider, welcoming him in.
He accepted, his tongue briefly skimmed around mine as if afraid to go any further, then he thrust his tongue deeper, drawing mine into his mouth and capturing it with a languid suction. My knees buckled at the reaction, he steadied me and pressed me closer, his body bracing me. His hand slipped from my waist to the small of my back. The intimacy of the gesture spurred my action and my fingers tangled into his curly hair as I held on to the kiss, certain I would fade to nothing without feeling his body crushed against mine.
The windows adrift brought in cold air, my already hardened nipples stiffened in response.
Okay… I think I can’t afford to go any further. When I am brave enough again, I will let you folks know.