$Local Network Broadcast Publishing™ ($LNBP™)

Last night we lay in each other's arms, my room lightly lit by the faint light protruding through the shirt I had hung over my laptop. I do not know why I keep it on at all times; maybe the slow hum of its overheating hard drive reminds me that I am still alive, or maybe it's the comfort of having light in my life. Either way, the droning sound heightened the passionate atmosphere. In that moment, I felt as though nothing could go wrong in my life. I felt whole; as though the past had somehow written itself out. I felt as though all the barriers which separated our two worlds had been broken. I wanted that moment to last forever. Forever. The word that frightens me most.  I have said many a time over the past two years that I am ready to tap out of 'the game' and settle down, embrace monogamy and devote my everything to that one special woman who I will hail from mountaintops as my one and only; but the mere thought of commitment scares me. Though as I lay there

It's Sunday - again. And again, I find myself sitting in a dark, smoke-filled room pondering my very existence. I have had a week filled with intensity, passion, love all eclipsed by a dense layer of lonliness and lingering feelings of isolation from reality which I cannot for the life of me shake off. Two years ago, I met a woman and had no idea that she would change my life. Two weeks ago, we shared a moment which set us off on a journey to heightened sensuality that had us both shaking in anticipation of climatic bliss; a journey that never ended and continues to fill my days with endless wonder. I felt her heart open as she embraced me, heard her tears fall as she confided in me and saw her soul for the very first time - and it scared me. Happy. That is how I feel. I do not know where this road will take us, nor do I wish the journey to end. All I know for certain is that it must be love - or I'm the fool again.

He has always been there. We shared a roof for the first seven years of my life. It wasn't always pleasant - but it made all the difference in the world between being a lonely only child and having a companion. I have this memory - rather vague, but intense nonetheless. It was back in pre-primary school - I think we were five years old or so. I had always been the whiner between the pair of us, but that day was different: he was sobbing slightly and I walked up to him, knelt down before him and asked him why he was upset. I cannot for the life of me remember what his reason was, but that was the first time I had seen him vulnerable, and quite possibly the very last. He carried me through pre-primary school. I don't actually remember this happening, but he would complete my tasks for me when I couldn't, I was told. I do remember that I was complete shit and basically everything, though - but nothing occupational therapy couldn't fix. We both made it to primary schoo