Sometimes I feel like I’m missing out because my kinks aren’t weirdly specific enough. The folks who get off on the most narrowly contrived scenarios always seem to be having the most fun.
People are out there like “I’m a naughty little cube and I need you to tell me my axes of symmetry are cute and multifarious” and having a fantastic time with it, and I’m just over here sucking dick like an idiot.
we must invade the netherlands and rename it to New Aotearoa
you will have NO nutella, you WILL eat the rice and beans, you WILL eat this soy i genetically modified to have estradiol valerate instead of phytoestrogens, you WILL wear the bike helmet
the fucked up thing is that i’ve been in this exact situation and actually felt some measure of beauty in the world. but only when the streets are empty and the area descends into a time of day when it clearly was not meant to functionally exist. there is a wretched beauty in walking around one of these suburban sprawl commerce zones at night or close to dawn, sitting down at a table like this and basking in the sensation that you own the place. maybe this is an inherited derangement from living most of my life in the midwest suburbs, working late night shifts at a grocery store on a corner exactly like this one. maybe it’s just the only time of day in a place like this when you can be truly alone outside
