Saturday Morning

I grabbed Sammy from the patio, again. This is about three times in about as many days. I don't like doing that, because it makes him distrustful about staying here. However, it is raining, albeit lightly, and Kay is here, which means that she and Pop might come into the kitchen at any time and stay there for hours, making it a lot more difficult to get the cat in.

Ice Cream

Picking up the newspaper, I see that Blue Bell Ice Cream is back in business, and their products will be hitting our shelves on December 14. After that salmonella outbreak. They were out of circulation so long that I have kind of lost my taste for those mini-ice cream sandwiches of theirs. But I don't know. Maybe it won't be difficult to fall back into that habit. That little ice cream cookie made for a nice appetizer.

Kay

This weekend I have noticed that Kay has turned on to TV programs about dream homes, real bourgeois stuff. I would think it late in the day for such dreams. How much fun can it be to be an old person living in a rich home? But I guess dreams aren't rational. When we dream, we don't see ourselves as old. After all, it could also be asked what is the point for a fifty-year-old man to dream of sex with twenty-somethings or teens. Arguably that is even more ridiculous, since it entails that an other should want to cater to your happy delusion. We dream because we can, and we dream of being happy, even when it has long ceased to be a real possibility.

Home Life

Cripes, no sooner is Kay out the door and Pop is busy cleaning the house. Is as though he is afraid that, if he stops moving, he might drop dead. At least he does not expect me to help, except to help him flip his mattress.

As for myself, I go too far to the other extreme of morbid sloth. Porn has a lot to do with it. I have been cheating on my '5 Days'. I haven't been sneaking in orgasms, but my bedclothes have been getting well-fucked throughout these past couple of days, as I only stop myself by the time I reach pre-cum. This also entails a lot of sampling of videos, copy-pasting links in my porn journal, in preparation for when I am supposed to be free to let my Freak Flag fly and hump myself into oblivion. One big problem is that, when I start looking at sexvids, it can become almost impossible for me to stop, and I will end up losing two to three hours of my day, like a drug addict snorting line after line of cocaine. I can even feel the temptation to forget my '5 days' bullshit. You only have one life, and my one life is sickly and unredeemable. So, why not just enjoy what I enjoy?, the squalid tales of rape and deviant sex. But no. I wince at the waste of my day. I am capable of somewhat higher things. I still have a Mann biography to finish and a magical mountain to climb.

This is why I want to keep going with my 5 Days, because during those five days, I can feel the prod to keep away from pornography and leave my poor pee-pee alone. I can focus on my studies and know that my life is richer for it. Moreover, my carnal body is still given its due, since this regimen is hardly draconian. I do not have to worry about losing my ogre status and rising to sainthood.