I feel like a condom in a washing machine being spun around a thousand times. Yes a condom, because you wouldn’t want to use me after an ordeal like that. Then I might be better off being a used condom since I wouldn’t be used anyway, disgusting even me, but knowing full well that this is true to my organic rhythms, desires, fantasies and subjugation of being male.
Heh you, table cloth, what do you think of gyrating beside a delirious me for a moment?
No I am not as repulsive as you make me out to be. I am in a goddamn washing machine; I am being cleaned. Just like you. In fact, we are being cleaned together.
What do you mean by everyone’s getting polluted because of me? You don’t understand, I’m not interested in anyone, not faded shirt nor stinky sock, but you. Can’t you just imagine the two of us taking a bath together?
Wait, why are you hiding behind underwear? You playing peek-a-boo with me?
d.
2 comments:
A strange counter-resonance! to [...]!
'objects'subject to atomic waveform!
i forgot how i came back here (to your blog) but when i did, ...this!! quite amazing, really. and i just read mishima. he talked of washing machines like you did
lol...i could have sworn of the vivid visions in my head now...
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