Villainous

I recently read a post on another blog that said 'female intuition is one of the most powerful senses. We can detect whether he is a prince charming or an evil villain in seconds.' Bull. Shit. I, and a few of my acquaintances, are very good at pretending to be what we're not. I'm not bragging about lying to women here believe me I know I should feel terrible about it, but I'm good at it. For example, I am currently sleeping with a married woman (KD). Now realistically if this 'female intuition' is truly as powerful as is being stated then surely KD should have twigged that I am in fact a villain. But no she holds on to the idea that I am just fucking lovely. I have no idea why, I've never given her any sign of that. I've been cocky and rude in front of her and still she thinks I'm just peachy.

Moreover, a while ago a friend and I had a little bet to see who could sleep with 20 women first. He won. By like 5 hours. Fucker. Anyway his M.O. and mine are much different. He has no problem just coasting by and using a quick physical seduction. Personally, I prefer the mental seduction school. In a song I rather like it states 'Thou shalt not use poetry, art or music to get into girls' pants. Use it to get into their heads.' For me this is an excellent motto. I appreciate that this may sound a little cold hearted and callous but I'm simply being honest.

I have always said of myself that there is one key difference between me and most people that have regular casual sex. I talk about it. I don't understand why even in the age of sexual liberation that we live we still cling to some archaic values about faithfulness and public discussions of sex. Everyone is doing it. Your teenage children. Your parents. Your siblings. Possibly even your grandparents through the miracles of Viagra. Yet still we hide behind our very prim and proper ideals about marriage and carnal relations. 

Those who know me will tell you that I am not a fan of commitment or relationships. That is not the case. I love relationships I really do, I just can't be bothered with the boring parts when the spark fizzles out. I bet that none of you can truly, hand on heart, say that you enjoy the parts of a relationship where there is no excitement. But if one of you lovely people thinks that you can successfully argue your point then please feel free to contact me and I will hear you out. You may change my mind. 

I think that in my little biography thing I promised poetry. Here is poetry.

Fliss.

Be not a samba in my chest,

But instead be a waltz.

Pale sapphire eyes supress

All hope I have of sleep tonight.

A sunrise is quite fitting for this

A new start of the same thing again.

But why I desire a fated kiss

Over and over and over I know not.

I've been here before and missed

Many a step and lost my rhythm.

These 3 years my how I have pissed

Them away with the same steps.

But now a new name for them

Always a new name for my moves.

I've just fallen in lust with one more thing.

My personal brand of Bliss.

My one, my only, Fliss.

This poem is about a girl who broke me. Not even in the fun way, she actually broke me. She is, I can proudly say, one of the sculptors that shaped my current personality. Congratulations. Regardless of what she did I still miss her. She was beautiful. Still, I never actually got to bed her. I'm quite glad about that. Girls I sleep with make terrible muses unless I'm in a dysfunctional relationship with them. After all, art never comes from contentment.