Some make me laugh.
Some make me sad.
Some make me wonder.
Some make me empathize.
Some make me swear.
They all make me think.
A new lover each day.
A new bed-mate for each night.
Some of them are expensive per hour.
They speak different dialects and even different tongues.
Some, in the heat of passion, throw at me words that I barely understand.
Nevertheless, I hear mesmerized.
Oh, talk too much, they all do.
About things I know and don’t.
Sometimes I even doze off listening,
Only to be shaken awake with no mercy.
They hate being interrupted.
The idiots do not believe in conversation.
They are too full of themselves to listen to others.
I don’t blame them.
Each one seems to have too much to convey in too less time.
They come to me from far off places.
But gladly accompany me when I travel.
When I have no trips planned,
They excitedly drag me someplace.
Mostly places that I have never been to.
Sometimes to old haunts,
But with new experiences.
I share with one or the other of them,
Most of my life’s experiences.
Well, they ARE much of my life’s experiences!
The kind that gives one the Aha-moments.
The kind that teaches one new ways to think..
Builds emotional maturity..
The kind that makes one grow up.
They know no jealousy.
They haven’t learnt to be possessive.
One waits patiently for another to leave my side.
Even for months sometimes.
But leave they always do.
With no trace of sadness whatsoever.
It is simply business for them.
Having pleasured one, they seek the next.
But I can’t let the sadness of separation flood me.
For have I not learnt from them?
To keep seeking new lovers?
To keep expanding the harem?
I have learnt to let go of them and keep their memories.
I have learnt to feel a twinge of sadness and much of satisfaction.
But the helplessness never seems to leave me..
The helplessness that I can’t share them with the world.
I can’t discuss their quirks with anyone.
I can’t bitch about them with anyone.
I am told that this is the essential nature of love affairs..
The loneliness and exclusivity, however temporary.
But I do NOT want the bitterness..
Especially because I know that it is easy to cure.
I just need to meet other lovers of my lovers.
Others, who too have grown up with my lovers.
Well.. easy only in words.
For I rarely find people who take interest in my lovers.
They say one or the other of the dumbos bored them to death as early as childhood.
They loathe to even go near another one.
After all, who doesn’t fear death? 😛
But my lovers are not all that boring really..
They can entertain.
They can thrill.
They can be poetic.
They can inspire.
They can be intense..
And move you to tears when you least expect it.
Though sometimes pedantic,
They are very good at teaching,
Directly or Subtly.
Together, they can be true soul-mates.
Plus, young or old, they smell real nice 😉
The feel of their skins can’t really be described.
They are easily available too.
One can buy, borrow, or even steal them.
Buy exotic ones at posh establishments.
Find them waiting for prey at shady street-corners.
Borrow them from a neighbor.
Steal one from a friend.
Believe me, it’s exciting to snatch them when they are others’. 😉
Want to try one of mine?
Don’t know which one would suit your temperament?
Help web-pages are aplenty on the WWW.
There are nice online dating sites too.
With all that goodness, variety and the convenience..
Why do people lead loveless lives?
Why do they deprive themselves of the magic that are words?
Why don’t people want to grow up?
I just don’t get it!