Had a sex dream last night about a friend of a friend that I think took place in an elevator? I know the whole setup kinda resembled a thing she posted on Instagram yesterday. Something in a bathing suit.
I remember noticing a while ago that, in my imagination, sex and romance seem kinda mutually exclusive. When I really like somebody, and I’m imagining how a romantic evening might unfold, sex is never a part of it. If I’m really attracted to somebody, on the other hand, and might perhaps very much like to ruin a desk with them, I seldom think about candle-lit dinners and confessional latenight chats over wine.
But this sex dream actually managed to achieve both.
In an elevator, no less.
New horizons, man.
I have to share with you my journal entry this morning. Since you contribute so much to me, I feel it is only right that I contribute something to you.
“I learn so much from this kid. This notion of separating sex and love that he writes about is a sad commentary on the male brain. The fact that, at 28, he’s understanding what he’s doing, is heartening.”
Heartening= increasing cheerfulness or confidence, encouraging…’this is the most heartening news of all’