The pure oasis of touch

The pure joy of a touch. The joy of unhindered, uncontrolled, benevolent touches. The touch of loving, touch of cool or warmth, a touch of and within this life.

How I'd like to live cannot be described simply by spoken truths.

I feel like a pure, tentacled, multiple-petalled, open, light, white heart. I'd like to deeply, sensitively touch. I'd like to live through my caress, I never ever would like to hinder my touch, for anything other than the simple sense of innocent rightness in me. Our mind is a brutality.

I'd like to use sensitive touch when it is due.

I'd like to and will respect people's boundaries and my boundaries.

I'd like to live sensual connection through this skin. These are just energies, honest, innate, pure and innocent electromagnetic fields, fields of wonder, these velvety fields of calm, and the most fitting joy in our skin there ever is.
My skin is in direct connection with my soul. When my skin lulls and sings a silky, soft song of joy, then we are home. Then I have become we, momentous arrival, a soft oasis without inner drive or cruel enmity.

A song of joy, a moment we deny ourselves day after day, hour after hour. We live according to principles and beliefs to create a better life than what this already is. A life of joy and touch, taste and smell, of perceptible visible forms, and forms in our minds. We came here, where only these beliefs and precepts work – we think –, because we already came too far.
Here there is only route correction, in a perfect world where the only resolve and rejoice would be to let go and lean in. With our hearts open after all the pain, petals wide, tentacles whirling and reaching out and touching unhindered, as they are intended.

We are free beings. Now. As we are sitting here, while we probably would rather just run out, and cry. And touch.

I’d like to be independent of women. I’d like to caress, in the perfect moment, some of them.