Like a Twitter cluster fuck

I don't use twitter, and I love the term cluster fuck.  It's beautiful outside, and when I say beautiful I mean sun out and painting the southern sky.  I mean the breeze of an equinox blowing over remnants of snow from a week ago.  I mean nature's exotic dancers at work: the plants begin to shed dead, brown, dry, crusty reminders of fall and reveal incredibly matched sets of underroos.  Green grass is like, what I presume to be, an Irishman looking at his favorite bonnie lass in only the least clothing possible, on St. Patty's day. And he's drunk.  And somehow potatoes and the Catholic church are involved.  I went for the racist motherload there, and I am excused since my ethnic heritage is like a pound puppy's.  I am not a pagan/wiccan/whatever the accepted vernacular is for it these days, but I see very easily the comparisons drawn between earth and woman.  The fertility in my nostrils is driving my hypothalamus insane.  I swore around mid-January that I was suffering from Seasonal Affective Disorder.  While I am a psychology student, well aware of the truth in such disorders, I had always thought myself above such easily cognitively conquerable afflictions.  Turns out I was wrong, and it's not just easy to step out of.  I lost all kinds of pleasurable drives: food, sex, laughs.  But right now, I am about to go gorge myself on clamburgers (that's my new favorite vaginal euphemism) and fried food.  Gawd almighty the spring serves an incredible purpose.  Maybe I should sacrifice a goat and dance around naked in the back yard like our Druid friends. On the twitter cluster side of things, some thoughts: When there are double doors, and you walk squarely out of the locked one, do you also feel like a horse's ass? Sometimes when I am extremely riled up, mad or horny or excited, it helps me to put the biggest knuckle of my index finger in between my teeth and bend it as I bite down.  Maybe it's like a pussy version of cutting, the pain a way to control and express inner conflict, or maybe I'm a freak.  Lastly, when you meet someone for the first time, do you feel like you're in a job interview? I always get the following questions, usually in this order: Where are you from, What's your major, What do you plan to do with that degree, Are you in a frat (sorority girls love that one).  I don't get why those questions are accepted as the most pressing issues worthy of being noted by a stranger.  If I were a girl, meeting potential mates, I would think better questions would be things like Ever been arrested for a sexually violent crime? Do you drink to the point of belligerence? Is your car reliable? Do you want to just have sex and skip the bull shit and hurt feelings?

Is that just too simple, or am I missing something

Tick Tock Tick Tock

Seconds dripping. Minutes crawling. The wait has been long. I have tried different things, taken steps, whatever means I could find.  I just recently became old enough to give my patronage to bars and clubs (thanks to my Puritan city's decision to outlaw all of those under 21 from entering such an establishment.  Quick two questions: House Parties aren't dangerous? and I can go to Iraq and be shot at, but I am not old enough to decide whether I can handle some liquid?), so that is now an option I can explore.  What am I looking for? Any woman capable of challenging me mentally, emotionally, and physically.  Keep in mind that I, despite my shortcomings in the area of confidence with women, am still an incredibly strong young man.  Females often lose my interest merely on the basis of being boring to me.  My self-inflicted celibacy is the result of this.  My brother's on and off girlfriend threw herself at me a few times over the past year, and I let it go a little while before I quashed the notion.  Other girls who are just far too predictable fell short of holding my interest.  Would I go home and make good on all my poetic musings with a girl who is incredibly hot? Hell yes, I would.  That's a challenge, physically, and who said we were getting married.  Would I spend some time getting to know a female able to bust my balls, rival my wit, and keep me on my toes? Most likely.  The combination of the two might just dirty up my knee with a marriage proposal.  Not really, since that woman only exists in the space between my temples.  I'm rambling now.  Here is a list of things that enter my mind when I am desiring amorous companionship:

1. An older (late 20's all the way to 40's) woman with an above average body.  Someone looking for a young, good-looking guy like myself to make her feel great again.  This woman would expect nothing of me beyond the things she wanted most.  Perhaps she is with a partner, perhaps I can fulfill a need others can not, perhaps she just wants to escape and feel free of temporal reminders.  I am not to decide, but this is my number 1 fantasy. 

2. A female (I use this term in regards to those members of the fairer sex not yet women who have matured past being a girl) worth my time.  Someone I can invest more than intimacy in.  Emotion, feeling, love, lust, all of it.  Not a girlfriend, since I don't really believe in those. (Sarah, you understand).  

3.  A girl (in mind, not age) that is physically incredible.  For one reason or another, this trades positions with number 1 depending on my mindset at the time.  This has been a girl I have feared most of my sexually-mature-enough-to-care-about-females-in-that-way life.  My self image has always been that of an ugly exterior with a sparkling personality, and I always feel inadequate to hook this type of person.  Lately, I have been wanting to find this girl and to crush her.  To snare her with emotion, to have her thirst for my every drop of attention, to deceive her enough to find vulnerability, and then to tell her how shallow and weak and meaningless it all was.  Vengeance for all the girls that did similar things to me in reverse fashion, perhaps.  Perhaps it's just my way to feel powerful over them.  I doubt I could ever have the psychopathic ability to do such  thing, but the thought has not been anomalous.  

And thus, I feel my young life ticking away. My desire, ability, and want to find these different types of partners dwindling.  I know I am still very young, but for a person who has waited quite a long time, relatively, this seems inconsequential.  

On a side note, if you know of someone that fits this bill, and is looking for a person like me, my email can be accessed by speaking to my secretary.