Sex and Angels

The people I want to fuck do not want to fuck me. The people that want to fuck me, I do not want to fuck. How long must I be relegated to this limbo puzzle? What must I change or shift energetically to get my wants and needs lined up properly and met? 

I used to swear by changing my hair. Change your hair, change your life, right? In the case of my sex life, no. Wrong. I’ve been blonde, red, black and brown and still… celibate. 

I’ve rearranged the furniture in my bedroom, thinking this might switch up my energy. In my office, my desk faced south and now it faces north. Still no dice (or dick in this matter).

It was so much easier when I drank. I was so much less picky. Don’t worry, I won’t drink. At some point I’ll land on the right formula. The right shift. Maybe I need to move. To another planet. 

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These are the notes that I wrote to myself the other night, after running into Gabriel.

It was morning and I was waiting for a breakfast burrito in a cafe when I noticed this man staring a…