*Screams silently until blood vessels burst in brain*

Cookoo

I do believe Im losing my mind.

Rubbish, Im right here, and not even a bit dented.

This is what is bothering me to be honest.

The fact that you havent lost me? Are you trying to fit into some kind of cool gang? Or develope the stereotypical image that is associated with the young people of your generation? Or just generally trying to be different and goggle the masses with your self deprecating humour? Are you bothered because you are in fact like everyonme else?

No.
Im bothered because youre actually TALKING to me.

*pauses, discovers the concept of self awareness, gets sinking feeling in stomach* Oh dear. I hadnt thought of that. Do you suppose you actually are... you know, *indicates insanity by wiggling fingers*

Its very possible. Though that is not my primary concern right now.

Why not? What could be more important?

Where on earth did you get fingers from?

Oh dear. *recalls sinking feeling and realises it has a stomach. Begins to have heart palpitations* We're in trouble arent we?

*The eerie, whooshlike silence that follows suicide*

Post Mortem Report: Jane Doe 342

i have been feeing a little trapped lately.

I've never been comittment phobic, because to be honest Ive never taken committment seriously. A bit of an oxymoron I know, but Ive ever actually committed to anything, or anyone. Nothing has ever been forever, or permanent. Ive always believed that everything changes, and what we take so seriously now, will in a few years/months/days mutate and rightly so, into something that is completely inconsequential. So I have never had to take anything seriously.

I find myself now, in a situation where for once in my life I have to take responsibility. For my actions, for my feelings, for my decisions, because the consequences are real. And serious. Im having to grow up and im not sure i want to. I miss being responsible for just me. I miss having to look after just me. Decisions I make now, must be made for two people.

I miss being alone.

THE SEX (Or whatever you kids call it these days)

I am a reasonably attractive woman in my early twenties, and I hvae been sexually active for close to six years now.

I have recently been forced to acknowledge, very much against my will, how incredibly spoilt I am in this respect, and how much I take THE SEX for granted.

How, you may ask, did I come upon this particular epiphany?
Like you havent guessed.

Ever since I accepted the first sexual advances of my first boyfriend (GAWD that was so long ago) I hvae never had to pine for, well to put it bluntly, action. It has always been freely available, for me to chose to indulge in or refuse out of sheer moodiness. It was something that I never had to think about and never had to wait to long to get.

Though thinking about it, I hvae to admit, it wasnt the THE SEX as much as it was the motivation behind it. I am thoroughly addicted to feeling wanted. To being desired with such passion and fire that THE SEX becomes all the man Im with can think about. That dinners are left unfinished, clothes torn, work ignored (temporarily ot otherwise) and good sense and responsibility are simply forgotten in the all consuming passion that comes with THE SEX.

It wasnt always one sided of course. Too often, it has been me that was abysmally late for work because the man I loved stroked my bare shoulder a little too suggestively as I was heading for the door.

The problem, with where I am now and with who, isnt that THE SEX has disappeared, its that the passion just never was. THE SEX is good and absorbing enough as its happening, but... Its not copmpelling. Its not consuming. Its not... THE SEX.

Its just sex.