The 3rd Dimension

I do not have “third world woman problems”. When my marriage was ending, I was still having sex. After my divorce, I dated an individual who stated that “we needed to explore our sexual compatibility”, and I responded: no man has ever fucked me and said, “we’re not compatible”. I thought to myself what kind of “third world man problems”—after fornicating and providing him proof of my expertise he repaid me by faking his orgasm. Now, I know I might be intimidating, but is this reallly how men feel insecurity—so much so that they wither and flop over at the site? This poor dude. I think his third world views have got the best of him, or perhaps it’s my first world mentality?

Never have I ever…been the one to be polite, soft spoken, mousey, or kind. I’m a manizer. That’s the worldly order of things. Holy whores—oh how we abound, but to lose composure is surely a thing of the weak. Strong, loud, and potent are the whimpers and the moaning that come out of my mouth—even when I don’t. What can I say: you either have it or you don’t.

Women talk to me about their sex lives, and I have nothing in common with them. Their need for ideal conditions, optimal time, and “love,” seem like non sense to me. Sometimes I wonder if they just lie to be sweet. Then, I remember they’re from third world times. Precoz is the word that best describes me sexually. I don’t need lengthy fondling sessions before hand, nor do I have strict rules to get me in the mood. I don’t need time to come. I don’t even need love to come—sometimes the warmth of the phallus without intrusion is enough. I know this is from a new world order.

Suddenly, the world begins to make sense to me—I am not from their plane of existence. I live light years away from their social consciousness—only some miles away. But, I don’t behave for myself; much less for the public.

Misbehaving has brought upon me tedious and countless misfortunes. I’ve been branded like livestock when I know that “normal” is a third world concept with ideals that conform to chaos, genocide, and the destruction of freewill and self expression. Yet, here I am, still exposing myself freely. And, am I crazy? Am, I abnormal? Or do we just live in different realities? Mine: light years away from these times; yours: stuck somewhere between then and now.

Hoard, I will—all my thoughts and my devious ways until I’m ready to expel them upon the new world. I’m the master of over sharing. I never have anything to lose. Is this a new world order? I haven’t the slightest idea. But I know how to put all the ladies and gentlemen to bed—something that a first world, a third world, and a new world can’t do. So, where am I now? In what delusion have I settled down? Perhaps in the one where nothing really exists, but the third world order has taken over their minds by making them believe that rigid rule is the place to be!

They’re magical places where individuals play hide and seek with their souls—pointing their fingers at those who don’t care. Whispering in each others ears what it means to be normal. Hiding behind their fears of being judged, of being too much, of saying too much, of liking the worldly pleasures a bit too much. But they’re secretly nipping away at their fingernails—enjoying, ignoring, participating in the carnage they see.

Meanwhile, I’m still here. An Exorcist exorcising my write to be free. Expelling oppression—so the world can see that the only world order is the one we perceive.