whenever i come, i curse. it's always the same -- "shit." and then, "shi-it, shitshitshitshitshit," and after about five seconds of that i blend into "fuckfuckshitfuckshiiiiit--" and then i tremble in aftershocks and breathe heavily until i either tentatively touch myself again or draw my hand out of my pants.

i've been obsessed with orgasming lately. when i hit eighteen, the summer before college, i fell into my sex drive like it had been waiting for me, revved and unable to stop itself. i was turned on all the time. for the second semester of my college experience, i could barely stand going to class because i was so aware of my skin and the way my pants rubbed at my legs. it was horribly amazing whenever i was close to my period.

on average, i come about four times a day. the only times i don't are the days where i'm too tired to bother, or when i have people with me and i'm unable. it's become a lovely routine that i fall into -- lay back, unbutton my fly, and just exist for a moment. i am as human as the next person, and i feel things like anyone else.

my first orgasm sticks with me -- it was late, late at night. i was in bed at home in memphis, and it was almost two in the morning, and i was listening to the runaways soundtrack, and i touched myself because i had to, even though i had no idea what i would end up with. fire was in my fingertips and my cheeks were burning and i was breathing so quietly it was choking me. and when i came, i was so surprised by it that i didn't even know that it was happening. i tried again, frantically, and came a second time, but i couldn't do a third. elated and confused and still helplessly turned on, i fell asleep.

that first time, the only thing that happened was a gentle pull and release, a spilling of electricity on my nerves but i was relatively still. this second year at school, my orgasms have evolved into full body spasms, and i've actually cracked my head against our concrete walls more than once, and the best part is that i feel so good that it never hurts. it's so incredibly amazing to have your body twisting to get out of its own grasp, back arching and body flexing and head flying into the air; it's best on the second one, when i'm still a bit weak and gasping and it takes half the time to get back up and i hold back at first, just teetering on the edge before i accidentally knock myself over, and that's why i curse -- because i'm never ready for it, because the build up is the best part, and because laying in the aftermath, all i want is to be back up on top again, instead of gasping for air at the bottom.

i can't stop feeling too much. it was a joke at first but now it's really hurting me and i always thought this was what i wanted, because feelings mean something, they mean you mean something. those who feel tragedy are the ones who become great, after all. the sad thing is i have no reason to be so upset, i have no reason at all and it's just getting too hard for me to handle anything anymore. just a few moments ago i went to get groceries from the store -- just dinner, i suppose i should say, although it's 10:48 at night right now. it was raining earlier, and it sounded like it was going to storm but it's stopped for now. i wore my hood up anyway, because it made me feel mysterious and calm for a short while. i normally put my hands in my pockets when i walk without a bag but for some reason i wrapped my arms around myself and wouldn't let go. i felt, no matter how stupid this sounds, that if i let go of myself i would fall apart and nothing would work anymore. i couldn't let go. it hurt so much inside of me that i can't even really understand it -- like something was pushing at my abdomen and trying to come up out of my mouth. i can still taste it there but it's not as bad. i walked up to the crosswalk and there was a boy standing there -- he glanced at me and i hoped he wouldn't say anyting because i felt periliously close to idon'tknowwhat and i couldn't see him very well because i wasn't wearing my glasses. i felt vulnerable and lonely and afraid of nothing at all. the light changed, and we crossed and he went straight and i went left and began thinking of how i was going to die tonight. i know a lot of people say they contemplate their death but i feel like i have a horrible fascination with the ways i could die. i peered timidly into alleyways for people who would mug me although i was only carrying my debit card and school id. i heard people talking in the mcdonald's parking lot and imagined one of them shooting me accidentally when a fight broke out. a car pulled into a parkinglot -- it can't see me and will hit me. i'm still holding onto myself. the last few steps into the walgreens are rushed, like the light from inside was some kind of saving grace; there was a man talking on the phone behind me and i imagined him stalking me and raping me and killing me. i walked to the frozen foods isle and stared and ignored the people standing near me; they were in front of the cooler i wanted to look into so went into the next isle to stare at food and wait for them to leave. i noticed a box of tea and decided to buy it because i miss drinking tea, and the couple passed by me. the girl looked at me for a moment and i was so scared she was going to say something to me but they kept walking and i quickly grabbed two frozen dinners and headed towards the makeup, thinking absently of buying eyeliner. i chose one and went to checkout and pretended to be cordial and left and outside it was like my bad thoughts had been waiting for me because i was going to be shot again, and then i was thinking of feelings and brains and nerves and wires and a drop of rain from an overhanging fell onto my forehead and it was so shocking it burned me. and i thought of the way that feelings were the real pain we felt, not the actual physical damage, and that if feelings could be so strong and powerful then why wasn't i dead, because i had felt my death so many times. everything felt so full of clarity at the moment but it seems stupid now. i don't know. i crossed the street and thought of cars hitting me again, but it was more distant, and i felt stupid for being self-indulgent with my thoughts. construction is being done on our building and there is a tower of crates or something leading to the roof. i imagined climbing them and just staring at the sky and people in cars laughed and drove off and girls called out for friends and i went inside and walked up to my room and sat down at my computer and cried while i typed this. i'm honestly afraid of myself. i can be so happy, so dramatically, disgustingly happy. i can be happy at the stupidest things, like stories about goggles or actors who smile too much but my sadness feels like it will crush me into a thousand pieces and leave only bits of me to gasp for air. i've wondered if i have depression but i am too nervous to find out, and as much as i love attention i don't want it this way. i know it would be so much worse than it would be good. my thoughts are in too many places now -- i can't think of anything important to type, but i've thought too often like this and never written it down and i felt compelled to actually note that i experienced these feelings. i am so afraid that one day someone will want to understand me and i want them to have this, because nobody will believe that i felt this way. no one i know could even begin to comprehend my madness. because i am so mad. i must be the only girl on this campus crying into the air because her feelings are too big for her body. uniqueness is not what it looks like and no one can look pretty crying. the feelings are passing again -- i can breathe and close my eyes and the tears that have fallen on my throat are drying. i'm not going to give myself the chance to go back there. i'm going to eat dinner and watch doctor who and pretend this was just a moment, the lowest point i could find. it seems safest. it is now 11:06.