My thoughts can be so vivid at times. I’ll be sitting here, workers all around me; noise all around me. The sun and mosquitos beating down on me and my mind is in another place. A hotel room on a random weekday, a restaurant on a rainy day. A parking lot in a park on a Wednesday.

I see her face in my mind. I see the line outside the book signing, women excited and wet at the thought of me signing my name in their book.

Writing is cool as hell but there is one misconception. I don’t miss sex, I mean, I do but it’s more than that. I miss passion, I miss knowing someoone is proud of me. Maybe this is the vain part of me but I miss knowing there’s a woman touching herself to my words.

I’ve said this before and I mean it. I’m just no good alone, the Hennessy and writing become my best friend. I don’t think I have groupies but I do have women that show interest and I sort of thought its what I wanted but I want more.

I realize that now. I fell in love with my pen and paper. When I write on FB I feel like I’m begging for attention. When I write on my blog I feel like I’m home.

Wanting women to want me, to lust and get turned on by my words. That’s who I am and I think I’m finally accepting that.