My Onanistic Sabbath

Yesterday I masturbated. I was going to write some more interesting stories, about women met, dances, and fat ol’ladies with a big red nose. But I decided to part from them for now. So it is instead my sexuality, and dare you not add: ‘…or lack off.

Yesterday I masturbated, mostly to balance my sense of importance, to avoid feeling too grind from life, and to feel that at least in my fantasy, at least for those minutes, or hours, I am in charge. It might come to you at no surprise, but how much did I had to sweat to understand that the root of my sexual fantasies, the same very root that requires me to compulsively charge my body, weekly, is the same root that drove Ishmael to the sea. The desire to grasp, and control, the phantom of Life itself. And doesn’t this binds us all? Don’t we all now feel like brothers, linked by the same desire? The highest, Ishmael, to the lowest, this onanistic man we are all here: welcome!