Commuting
An appreciation for the thrill of being tossed around like a rag doll.
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 A rough morning.
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 More than anything, sex parties make me THINK. The day after a sex party, I’m filled with thoughts, imaginings, and reflections.
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 Thinking about fucking. And anger. Mostly, anger.
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 Charlotte’s gonna get fucked. And I feel safe.
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 I get confused about which is which.
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 Both sides, now.
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 Something about “you can’t always get what you want.”
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