born again, by accident

Calculating. It wasn’t a calculating choice. Like I need this to happen. I need to be born again. I am born again by accident. No rain has poured on my soil in months. This might seem misleading because I have dated, dated more men this summer than last. But somehow along the way I forgot how to seal the deal. There was a calculating choice of slowing things down. Getting to know someone before I show them my world of my vagina. But I didn’t intend for it to go down like this. But you see this isn’t the first time.

The isn't the first time I have fallen upon such a drought. California baby I must be. Because it either a monsoon of sorts or just a drought. But somehow this born again by accident status is different than the others because I am still getting some moisture, some perception, some 90% chances but somehow it does come down in a full rain. The last time I had the opportunity to play we had a bout of passing out and asthma attack- not in the cards I’d say- no rain just a drizzle.

Sexuality and how we decide to play in the game of it is and always will be personal with a dash of political. See I am bad at the casual with sex. Almost my all my too quick encounters had landed me boyfriends, which have landed me heartbreak because I am in too deep with someone I probably shouldn’t be. Someone I should probably get to know beyond the perfection and acceleration of beginnings. So what is a woman in her 30’s who have needs beyond her own mind but biological left to do?

I don’t know but I do know when I hit this mark. It becomes to a point where I feel like a teenager boy. I start to undress bartender and baristas with my eyes. Men who sit next to me in somewhere on the stop in life-in lines, in cafes-I start to smell them and they smell good. My sexual energy steps up a notch so much I know I can’t be born again for long. I try to embody the lady gaga that this is a choice I don’t want to lose my creativity through my vagina. But a lot of creativity has come from my affairs and escapades with my vagina.

Born again I might be for now. But it won’t be long. It never is. And then you remember how to do it. Like last year around this time when sun had shone but no rain had fallen and you do what any normal woman would do and found a Halloween costume just revealing enough. Just enough skin. Just enough super hero. All you have to do is take off your clothes in a tasteful way. It is easier to do it on the Halloween. And I don’t break all my patterns and I just can’t. So as I walk out of the door American Apparel on the fateful haight street, last year leaving with wonder woman gear, this year with a scantly clad cat woman outfit. It isn’t calculating, it is just the reality of someone who is born again by accident.