Fuck.

"Whoomp! There it is." For those of you old folks that don't know- that is a phrase from a somewhat recent hip-hop song that I thought I'd prelude my FUCK statement with. Tonight I was staring at my computer for a long while before I thought of something worth saying. During this period of deep thought, the one word that repeatedly came to mind was "FUCK."
Staring at the computer...fuck. Stroking back my hair....fuck. God, I'm pretty tired....fuck. Damn, I'm really horny...fuck. Fuck, what do I write?...fuck. Sometimes I wonder how I'd get through life without the word. I need it to survive.

Sexual energy. It is undeniable. It is ever present. It is stronger than you think. It begs you to fall victim. I'm falling. God help me. Or Jesus. Or MotherFatherSonandSpirit. Or Allah. Whatever. Rawboy has cast his spell and I am vulnerable. Fuck.

I cannot have sex with my roommate. I need one of my high school teachers to pop out of my closet and make me write it on the board 100 times. I CANNOT HAVE SEX WITH MY ROOMMATE. If you ask someone why, they say "Bad. Just bad." And that's pretty bad.

I mean, I thought he was gay!! Massage therapist, raw foodist, take long in the shower, Ani DeFranco concert watchin' roommate! What is the world of men coming to? Can we really encounter a straight man who has a feminine side? One who might be able to really understand us?

I'm not going to get into all the reasons why I think this may be a possible union. I just know I called two of my girlfriends tonight in need of an intervention. It would be wrong. And I need to be nursed back to health. Thank Ghandi for girlfriends. Girls- really. What would we do without each other? I mean, who else would send you a text message at 2 A.M. that says "Don't do it!"?

I can't go on. I'll keep you posted. Have faith.

Yours truly,
DYVACREEM