blue spot

sex to me is very important. important enough that when i had started thinking of the blue spot during sex, it indicated to me something was going on.
i always compare my mind to a hard-drive: always spinning — shifting data around to accommodate where it will best fit. i also term myself multi-tasking. Computer words, ironically, describe my mind set.

because of this, i have found that before/while/after sex, with age, i have become more detached. it didn’t matter who i was fucking — i couldn’t stop THINKING of something else. and it didn’t matter what: grocery lists, course work, work work, friends, exlovers. everything and anything was filling up the void.

this explains, in a sense, why i have become more desensitized to the world. i really no longer care. but, i have to argue with myself that I do care, or else i wouldn’t be fretting about it.

the blue spot is a pin point i use to concentrate — to relax while having sex. those words are not mutually exclusive to each other.

I’m trying to imagine a world where having sex without thinking of the blue spot would exist.

that would be utopia.


Published in 1998-99 on