Wish I was ocean size
They cannot move you
No one tries
No one pulls you
Out from your hole
– Janes Addiction
“Wish I was Ocean Size”. Janes Addiction’s song rings in my head like an anthem. My youth, shaped by digging my toes in the hot sands of the Pacific, peering out at an intimidating set of waves awaiting me, just testing my courage as a sense of fear and anxiety is fixed on decorating my core.
I know what awaits. I have been there before. My love of the Ocean carries a sense of surrealism and nostalgia. Just staring out at it is an experience. Catch it during a storm and it is life changing. Precisely the Pacific, the only Ocean I consider an ocean. If the water can’t kill you by sheer mass on a slow day, it doesn’t count in my book. The Pacific always has woke me the fuck up as to my insignificance and my own station in life.
Want to be shaken and awaken? Take a hundred thousand gallons in the face at top speed and be tossed around underwater and hit the sandbar in a fucking thud with your face and just as you think you are reaching the surface after an eternity underwater, the 3rd wave of the set decides to say hello right on your head, just to put you down again. Saltwater burning your fucking nose because you have been breathing it in like oxygen.
Want to feel alive? Catch that next set’s 2nd wave and tuck down inside the barrel long enough to see the crest take light away. God damn, I miss that feeling.
The only feeling in life better I have experienced is the pinnacle-ridden orgasm-filled sweat, cum, and tears of absolute amazing hate-fucking, and it’s only better because I share that experience with you. And of course, I don’t fucking drown doing it.
Step at you and grab you by the meat of your pussy and shovel a heaping pile of my hazel darkness at you by staring right into your spirit. The fear on your face encompasses me and I warm knowing deep down that your submissive state is the fuel to the motor in myself that has been running on E for far too long.
The trust developed through the shaking and bucking orgasm I solicit in your weakened state. Your pleased face as you curl into a ball and my seed pours out of you, running down your inner thighs and you just have no fucks left to give so you let that bed sheet soak me in because the towel is too far away.
I summon up the strength internal to myself to stand above you, peer down upon you, and give you the same sinister grin than now holds new meaning.
I drop into your soul and tuck inside your spirit and I reach for what will change you forever.