1 March, 2017
NEW YORK CITY
“The Star of a Private Show”
He’s just too rough on me. It has a lot in common with rape. He goes deep up my ass. He’s pulling my hair and slamming me against the bar. He punches me in head as hard as he can. He gets what he pays for. He slams me for about five minutes until he cums. Like a pig.
I’m the star of a private show.
Sebastian wrote me the other night to go down memory lane and formally tell me he is off for Syria. Well I guess this is the end of him finally.
I don’t feel bad, he wants to end it like this anyway. He’s living up to an expectation of himself.
The john climbs off me eventually. A lot of meat to him, I’ll need to stretch it out. The Jon isn’t really just a Jon, he’s my roommate. A Brahmin. They do what they want. Including fuck my asshole on a Tuesday afternoon. Am I fucking to not pay my rent. Yes, that’s exactly what I’m doing. I wish I had something better, someone better to do but I don’t.
I haven’t seen Sebastian Adonaev since the end of the summer. The time we gave it another go, the poetry for kissing. The hopeless romanticism in him. Well anyway he’s the same old man and I’m the same old gal. And he’s still broke and still just and adventurer. He wrote an 800 page book for me, I’ve only read the first couple chapters. He wrote me 200 poems, they all sound about the same. He painted and framed a painting. It’s still up. I was dating a doctor, but he left me. Now I’m fucking the roommate to cut down on expenses. Well anyway my roommate has a big cock.
Later on in a year when I was arrested by the cops and they demanded that I tell them about Sebastian in Syria, honestly I didn’t know that much. I wasn’t that interested. He periodically would send me all these photos, but I didn’t want to see any of them. He would beg to be allowed to see me. But in reality I wanted very little nothing to do with him.
I live my life. It’s mine. I chose it and made all the bad decision.
Later on Id message his Whats App and tell him to come home. But I didn’t, mean, to me. He would probably survive the war, he war. He is tough. The roommate likes to choke me. I need a new roommate. Or I should just pay cash, every hole is too many holes.
I remember thinking only a little bit about his Syria objective. What I failed to see, though Sasho explained it, was that he was going to Syria to impress me. How ludicrous, nothing could be further from impressive to me. He was going to live I was sure. But to do what? Live to be a mentally broken person that I could never imagine how to heal.
We have some history Sebastian Adonaev and I, but I think going to war was the stupidest thing he ever did. It was hard on me anyway. I will certainly not be meeting him at the airport, should be survive the war.