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A monologue that I performed with in Swe 08. Its a mix between stage poetry and monologue. |
There must be some way for me to get out of this. Fuuuuck. Anna is terrible beautiful and is just lying there, waiting for me to give her the best experience of her life. I would really like to do it My hands are wandering along her body. Along the perfect breasts, the slightly rounded belly, my palms are strong and firm and she smile and laugh and I smile and laugh but I keep thinking; this isn’t working. I can’t, I can’t have sex anymore this way, not to feel good, you don’t feel good when you have sex just to have sex to feel good. Gosh, I don’t know what I’m thinking anymore, everything is so damn confusing. and…. Have you seen her? She’s Here Again Put her fingers On the wrong places Crossed Or behind her back No power to act Not here, no But I can usually do things like this. I mean, I’ve done it in a pub toilet, in the backseat of a car, outdoors, indoors, naked, dressed, well dressed, around the corner, on the balcony, in the bloody forest! I even did it with a woman I met on the buss once! I fucked her last week the gal I met on the bus she is one of those English indiepop-girls with untidy hair pale skin and an elegant but sexy vintage style I didn't planned to do it well it was not exactly what I expected after just two pints cause I smelled of cleaning chemicals after working all day at my new waitress job We told each other the stories of our life's and she gave me half of her cigarettes and paid for the first round before she asked me Are you brave enough to go home to my place and watch a movie or so? Of course I said yes I felt happy and brave and we started to kiss just minutes before we came to her house Inside her room, we made out on her bed, but she said easy tiger, can't we talk a bit more? So we talked and we kissed and drank elderflower wine while we watched A Clockwork orange and kept on kissing until the movie disappeared and all I could see was her naked body before me I fucked her last week the gal I met on the bus And i don't regret it a second But now, in a bed, in Anna’s flat with a perfect view over the river, when she’s lying there almost naked and just want me to... Now when I have everything that I always long for, I don’t want it anymore. Tears again Its no point that I Put makeup on I told her in The tube That evening In November The tears always fall Down over It anyway Delete Erase the mask Prove Who I don’t want to be But am She notice that I don’t want to, or that I don’t want to is not quite right., but I see that she takes her cardigan, buttons it fast. But actually I do want to I just wonder if I’m really allowed to have sex in this way or if I should be a nun or start seeking for the big love or become a eunuch and live sexless and without passion in Himalaya or… But I put my hands on her shoulders, look in to her eyes and tell her that I really do want to fuck, I use the word fuck, to make her understand that its not some kind of confused cozy lovemaking I’m out for. She just laugh, says that she never believed anything else. We talk for a wile. We talk and wile she talk with me, I sit quiet and pretend to listen as I plan my next move, my next line. We talk and we kiss each other and then she’s naked again and I’m naked and our bodies are on each other, fingers and hands and tongues and lips and softness and totally bloody dissolved frustration. And finally the thoughts are gone and finally there’s freedom. And I do no longer think when I caress her, I only think about the view and her cheeks, her lips, I don’t think about that I don’t think. I just think that the act I’m doing Right now Is the only one I can do without Being locked inside the person I’m not |