5 Years Of Abstinence

It has been five long chaotic summers, since my “hot line” blinged. Throughout this dry spell, I have experienced a series of cathartic highs and somber lows. Today, I have found myself on the brink of aromanticism. When it comes to being alone, I am perfectly good at it. Nevertheless, I remember that I wasn’t always this way. On my transcendent odyssey, undergoing involuntary abstinence, I found myself searching for the answer to this question; how many licks does it take to get to the center of my issues? These are my confections.

A Merry Chase

Our planet is filled with all kinds of people, tastes and flavors. From nerds and warheads, to sugar babies and sugar daddies, ding dongs and so many more. If there were any candy that I ever wanted to embody, it would’ve been the pink starburst. While the lemons, oranges and cherries offer their own unique flavors, the Pink strawberry starburst remains the most enchanting and addictive. A universally acclaimed, four sided prism, of mouthwatering ecstasy. Proudly adored, with an unexplainably juicy taste made to erupt in mouths nation-wide! To feel like a Pink starburst, was to feel cherished, desired and irresistible. Thus, to lose such adulation, was to be left deserted.

You likely haven’t ever imagined a Whatchamacallit and a Starburst together, because like pineapples on a pizza, they are not meant to be. However, there was something intriguing about this peanut butter bar, full of caramel and chocolate, that I found insatiable. Crunchy on the outside, a con artist on the inside. The sex had become halfhearted. Minimal effort, countering my optimal performance. The unforgettable type of lust that could make you cum and make you cry! So lazy and kinky, even the prudest of fruits would go fucking bananas!

Sex went from good n plenty to “WHAT THE FUCK?” over night! Our bodies grew stiff like manikins, rhythm awkward, and intentions murky. The unspoken forms of affection started to fade. Suddenly, I began to find myself dreaming about fried rice during foreplay, avoiding physical intimacy, and cringing through verbal sex. Less eye contact, less talking, and more distance.

Whatchamacallit: “Yeah, you like that??”

Me: “Okay”

I would think to myself;

“Why does kissing suddenly feel like CPR?”

“M&M’s are supposed to melt in your mouth, not in your hands!”

“Should I call an ambulance?”

“Is this a setup? Am I getting sPunk’d?”

If there had been a meeting for people that couldn’t climax, I doubt I would’ve come! People claim there’s no wrong way to eat Resees, but I beg to differ! Every little thing started to feel performative rather than personal. Instead of a Starburst, I had become a fucking Now N’ Later! Yet nothing was enough to leave me fully discouraged. I simply shifted from devoted to desperate.

It was the spark I needed back. The jolts of cheer that lit me up like dynamite! I needed it back even if it was weak or doomed. Blinded by clouds and debris, there was nothing I was not willing to do. But of course, where there's smoke, there may be an explosion. There was no longer a spark but instead an arsonist, and growing flames everywhere. I thought I was on the brink of something never seen before. I was headed for the moon, and in an instant I became the Challenger. Watching flames engulf everything I ever believed in, swirling hues of orange, yellows and even blues. Powerful and vivid when it began, melancholic when it was through.

The experience left me speechless. Numb by the swiftness of it all. Years of love had been forgotten in the hatred of a moment. I would never sell out or conform, and it was then that I found myself on the other side of the grass, by myself. I was not prepared to let the world kill our dreams. I believed in all of our credulous ambitions. Regardless if they may have only been our naive fantasies.

I had hoped somehow it was all just a nightmare. I felt like I had been robbed of so many things that I’d never get back. Our severed connection followed by a harrowing final fight, and truncated goodbye. Realizing I had come so far just to end up nowhere. And understanding at last that I would never be respected.

Every time I ignored my conscience, I would sink further into self disapproval. I felt like an airhead, out of control. It was as if I had the word tagged on my skin. It finally became clear that nothing would ever bring my delusions to life. A cold truth both hard and acidic, that left an aftertaste riddled with humiliation. Isn’t life juicy?

Sweet Nothings

“Fuck Whatchamacallits! They taste like shit anyways!” - Anonymous

I was not bitter, I was bittersweet. I started looking for a chance to begin anew, to forget it all! Pursuing love left me dry, abandoned and vindictive. Fortunately, I had found a chance for redemption. I entered a new arena, a confectionary heaven. Sweets galore, full of dots and zotz, big hunks and hot tomales everywhere! In my cynical state, I had something to prove. This time I would be invulnerable. This time I would be prepared. This time I would be bulletproof. I missed my past love, so I sharpened my aim. This time I wouldn’t miss a bitch or a beat.

It was time to break out of the ordinary. Sure, I may not have had the alluring stripes of a Starlight Peppermint, or the elastic red vines of a Twizzler. But this star was still bursting, with four corners at ninety degrees, a smack as toxic as heroin, and more issues than Playboy!

I needed somebody to break me off a piece of that KitKat bar! Someone who could light my fire again! I went everywhere, searching aimlessly for something to satisfy my sweet tooth. I was racing to eliminate the past from my mind. I figured if I had well over ninety-nine problems, sex could at least solve three. I heard life was better the Milky Way, thus I paid a visit. Even with comfort in every bar, it gave me nothing. I thought smarties might have had the answers, but they still left me clueless. I ran into some milk duds too, but they turned out to be just duds.

Candies came and went, but nothing stuck quite like they used to. Everything gave me nothing, not even a bit-o-honey. I wondered; is my flavor unexplainably trash? Am I the problem? Is pink going out of style? Is it lonely in here, or is it just me?

What would I have done for a Klondike bar? Apparently; anything! In my past, I did my best to keep things lively and riveting, thus I couldn’t figure out where I had gone wrong, or how I had ended up lovelorn. Reeling from the explosion as if it had happened yesterday. I could not fix… anything.

Dwelling on regrets. Still angry that I had ever been so foolish to think that my love ever had a chance to prevail. Frustrated at my failures, and inability to anticipate the future. I longed to feel something, other than bittersweet and misunderstood. To stop living a double life, pleasant at day, and indignant at night. I felt like I had been bested by my own naivety, and craved revenge. A karmic justice not personal, but in the name of my heart. But what exactly was revenge? Who was the true arsonist? Who deserved to suffer? And was it me?!

I had no idea who or what I was searching for anymore. I came to the conclusion, that whatever it was, was well beyond sex or recognition. In truth, I longed for someone to join me in my misery. Some company of any kind, it no longer mattered who or what. I just wanted someone that could remain stuck in the past, uninterrupted with me. I would never care if my brain had enough. I would investigate relentlessly for hints, remedies, and endless nothingness. To understand how love ever got the best of me. More than anything, I wished to stop reaping the never ending silent wretchedness of being forgotten. I was waiting for someone to help me forget everything. But like Andy Stitzer, nothing ever came.

In the midst of my tribulation, it seemed I had forgotten the damage I had caused someone else. I was delighted at the idea of karma, but scoffed at the taste of my own. Here and there, I’d find myself committing crimes in Grand Theft Auto games, just to feel wanted. With no luck, optimism and a head full of insecurities, I gave the last of my change to Mary Jane.

Ascension

“You’re not you when you’re horny” - Snickers

With my newfound unwanted freedom, I thought I’d double my pleasure and double my fun, so I did. Alone! I have never had a problem popping a tic tac whenever I needed a refreshening. It made the most sense. Why wait around for a Whatchamacallit, if I could get hours of satisfaction without the calories?

Mary Jane became my main thing. Sweet sticky taffy, that would have me moving slower than the molasses within it. Sativa made me feel alright! Sativa made my heart sing! I was higher than giraffe pussy! Baked like a batch of brownies! The invigorating coolness of a tic tac, after every Mary Jane, went hand in and hand like hippies and Woodstock!

Mary Jane and I flew through orgasmic paradise like a UFO in space, harmOANeaously. Sometimes I could barely catch a view, I was too busy hi-jacking. Morning, noon and night I was jackin’ the beanstalk! Five versus one, hand to gland combat. Just me and my butterfinger, and no one could lay a finger on my butterfinger!

Still, this only managed to curb my cravings, never erase them. I often pondered; how is it that I could feel ecstasy and doom at the same time? How is it that I could be in two places at once? And most importantly, what would I ever do without my friends?! Temptations continued to lurk in every aisle, persistently taunting me. Unsettling memories and thoughts remained ever present. Before I knew it, the days began to blend together. Life became the cause and cure. The reason I was stuck, and the anecdote to move forward. Despite my enthralling reality, time could never crush my spirit. An unorthodox optimist, I still had my dreams, my hopeless aspirations.

The longer I went on alone, the more detached I became subconsciously. My days became synonymous with an Almond Joy. Sometimes I felt like a nut, sometimes I didn’t. There became less time for dwellings and more work, because ultimately Sallie Mae never cared about my feelings anyway. And yet, even on the best days I’d still wonder; do you even know I’m alive?

Half Bad

“Sthick and thired of your broken promitheths promitheths.” - Keily Williams

Over time, I got readjusted to solitude. It wasn’t as bad as I had imagined. Dare I say it, I began to flourish. No stress, low sugar, low expectations. No heart breaks, no head aches!

Other candies would say;

“Damn, you still ain’t get no BonBons?”

“You might as well be a virgin”

“Is your blow pop broken?”

“BITCH IT MIGHT BE!”

But I knew the truth! A few tic tacs a day, kept me in mint condition! Self pleasure allowed me to have sex with the person I loved the most, seven days a week! My days of bad romance finally behind me! I no longer needed Sallie Mae’s forgiveness, because I chose to forgive myself! Gone, were the days of me chasing Peppermint Pattie, trying to get the sensation. I became the sensation! The brightest star in the pack! The creme de la crem!

As time went on, I encountered a sound, similar to the snaps, cracks and pops heard in cereal bowls all over America! I looked to my left and my right, before glancing back in front of me to behold; a square chocolate coated Rice Krispie! Fascinated from afar, I could not see any marshmallows or integrity, but I was positive some was present. For the first time in a long time, I felt attraction, and it gave me a rush I hadn’t felt in forever. I figured, if we had good chemistry, we could do some biology!

Our picture together was blurry, yet it showed potential. This one promised to be simpler, better, and a mouthful of fun, yet had a crispiness that almost seemed familiar. As I got closer, it wasn’t long before I began catching whiffs of peanut butter and chocolate coated narcissism! I realized I had been catfished! There wasn’t even the slightest bit of marshmallows! It wasn’t a mouthful, it was a WHATCHAMACALLIT! This crispy contradiction, snapped me, cracked me, and was planning to pop me!

It turned out, the rush that had come over me, was only my common sense leaving my body. I soon realized our photos together would have always been blurry, because a narcissist can only focus on themselves. I was reminded of the harsh reality that some people want you, and some people just want to use you. I learned that even if it may look like sugar, it might be crack.

Tap In

“An arsonist does not always find a match.”

Over 1,827 days orbiting the sun and I have never been higher. Currently reaching an altitude of peak horniness. They say a Mars a day, helps you work, nut and play! Of course a lot of things have changed, but my kinks have not! These days, I have been watching the Earth as it spins, time as it escapes me and the falling leaves as they blow in the wind. I sit in silence and watch ginkgo trees sing in harmony with the birds that fly among them. I am tripping and reeling. I have seen victories and monsters alike. I have seen myself in raw form. I’ve learned that reality is more bizarre than any fiction. All of this time that I thought I knew enough of this world, I see now that I have never known anything at all. As I shed old parts of who I’ve been, I remember that suffering is not my only option! Freedom from disillusion, my spirit no longer bound by any desire to be appreciated, respected or understood. My misfortune has become my salvation, and yet still keeps me in a crisis. A fool of the past, a human as I see it now.

As the great Snickers once said, never let horny happen to you! Sometimes you just have to blow your own bubble! Everyday is history in the making. I remain in constant awe of the Universe and the infinite energy. These days I feel like a Martian in awe of Saturn's rings. Shining like the stars that light up the Summer nights. A radiation stronger than gamma rays. Reflecting every color of the spectrum. No longer surprised to see my reflection in the night sky. Dazzling constellations and wistful nostalgia. Still on a quest for something that money cannot buy. In our galaxy filled with endless mysteries, this star, both rare and one of a kind, remains original and unmatched.

My rocket is ready for takeoff. I am tuned in, about to meet Alice in Wonderland! I look to the sky and my mind fills with wonder. I gaze at clouds and I let myself dream. Questioning if I will have a beautiful ending when it’s all said and done? And what is beautiful to me? Immersed in a world full of energies, and a million thoughts a moment. I am addicted to thrills, the fervor and rush. Unconditionally in love with a feeling.

The stars are aligning, something unknown has emerged. A naive artist, a pyromaniac with a new spark. At full stamina, brandishing a lust unparalleled. In touch with myself, I have discovered a euphoria unlike any other created internally. My fire ignited once more! I have gone out of my body. On the brink of my hottest orgasm, I feel my climax coming! An arsonist or an artist? I sit alone in my most radical act of love.