mistahsojourner

Latest Posts by mistahsojourner

It's a weird life. That's all it is.

Keep liking the horny posts of that girl who doesn't follow me back. Eventually she'll fall in love with me. Yeah.

I'm turning 41 this weekend...

Know what's cringe?

Dating sites and dating profiles.

Yo.

reblog to share a fat blunt with ur mutuals

Strumming a guitar in a dimly lit room. A little stoned. Slightly stoned. Just a little.

Strum the guitar.

Think of how I might give you multiple orgasms.

Yeah. So.

I don't think I got myself too many human followers. I guess I'm going to be dusting off this blog a little. I don't know that anybody is going to be paying the least bit of attention but if you are, hey. Don't be a stranger.

My name is Paul. I'm 40 years old. It stands to reason that I'm probably too old for all this but eh. It is what it is.

I've spent a lot of time in the Twitter roleplay scene writing various original characters. If anybody from that scene stumbles across this then hello. What's up? Obviously Twitter is quite fucked up these days due to the machinations of the muskrat.

It occurs to me that people I may actually know in real life might stumble across this. I think that is unlikely but I guess I find myself in a bit of a "not giving a fuck" era.

I play guitar. I started playing right at the end of 2020. I'm not that good but I play every single day. I primarily play acoustic.

I run a decent amount for physical and mental health reasons. I'm at almost 300 miles this year.

I'm a stoner at times.

I'm an ex-evangelical that was raised Catholic. At the current time, I'm coming to terms with the fact that I don't believe. It's only very recently that I've been honest with myself about that. It sounds clichè as fuck to say it's been quite a journey but it has.

Yeah. Aight. Later.

Me. Haven't posted regularly in years but this is me.

Hey.

I don't think anybody but spam bots be following me but...

If you're real. Let me know.

I want to be the boyfriend who makes a woman come so hard that she had to tell all her tumblr followers about it.

I wanna lick everywhere you'll let me.

I guess I think about a lot of things but that really don't make me special. I like to think that I have no illusions about what I am.

I'm nobody.

I'm a scared boy.

I'm faking it just like you. No, I'm not a serial killer, you sick fuck. Fuck out of here with that.

I guess I'm glad to be alive. Thing is, nobody taught me to live. Not really. Does anybody get taught?

Sometimes I'm filled with dread. I think about all the things I'm not gonna be able to deal with that day. That tends to suck. That's a fucked up thing to do but I do it sometimes.

I'm faded.

Can I tell you about how I can love you?

Yeah.

With my hands

and my tongue

and my soul, baby.

Kinda tempted to make an NSFW blog. Yeah. Be more open about my freaky side.

Maybe I'll try bearing my soul on this fucking blog to strangers who might happen by cuz that's how lonely I really am.

Red Pills

Every red pill I ever swallowed

was barely a placebo

dime store salvation

dolled up like nirvana

to get me through the day

to get me through the day

to get me through the day

and some days I came out something like alive

and thought I’m free of the dread

in this dream

none of us chose

but nah

and I’m never getting a refund

for any of those pills

the twisted man

from the internet sold me

so I’ve got a live with it

Improvised trek

into the coldest

and maddest parts

of you and me

and I hope you’ll come with me

into the setting sun

“it’s the soul that’s erotic.”

— Adélia Prado, from “Dysrhythmia,” The Alphabet in the Park: Selected Poems (Wesleyan, 1990)       (via metaphorformetaphor)

I just love how all the follows I get on this account are porn bots. All of them.

So a friend of mine told me how yesterday his coworker died on the way to work due to speeding and crossed a red light (she was late for the third time, so I’m guessing she was trying to avoid a write up). As soon as she crossed the light she was hit on the drivers side by a semi. The messed up part is that in less than an hour her table was cleared for a new worker. In less than 4 hours they had sent out the news that they are hiring. By the end of the day the hiring manager had contacted 4 people for an interview. Moral of the story is, these jobs don’t care about your ass. They will replace you in a snap. Don’t risk or waste your life trying to go above and beyond for a job that could care less about your wellbeing.

I’m tryin’ to try

but if I die

I’m like, “Okay. Yeah.”

Sunday afternoons are a bad trip

without a sitter

without a map

without old men with kind eyes

who tell you exactly where the fuck you are

and how to get back home.