when i look around today, the biggest anachronism i see is pregnancy.

i'm trying to get into a good mood. let me light this. candle/bowl/inside/them.

my pussy itches for me and you. but my mind wants to write, not touch. but what to say about to mood mounting it's attack to find madness. where in the hell have you been...i can't finger fuck to you unless you come the hell here. i need you in 10 finger distance so that i can talk to you by reading your formuated oppionions during our love making. i can't read you until you show your [pulsing cursor, pulsing cursor] .

when it returns i'll be able to quit visiting

and once that is done i can find my clit and be done with the serious stuff. i want to fuck my father. in my mind and by reading you. i'm glad you're back. i'm going to find my clit then.