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Lately, my thoughts have been a little less than appropriate.

I’m insatiably curious about sex. I see people in my daily life and imagine them as sexual beings – not having sex with them, merely wondering about the boundaries of their own sexual lives. Wondering if behind the spaghetti-stained button-up and general humdrum of the day, they are secretly freaks like me.

It’s not really erotic, and it doesn’t get me hot. But my wheels start turning and these people, these ordinary, everyday people practically become mythical creatures in my projections. There’s no way that all of the folks I pass in the halls, out to lunch, and running errands are completely vanilla. 

It’s like I’ve taken people-watching to the extreme. You might find this to be completely invasive…but I don’t think it is too strange. Having never really contemplated a healthy sexual relationship, I’ve embraced my curiosity as natural.

And it makes me feel less alone.

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