I don’t know you very well.
Your opinions aren’t mine,
I don’t understand your humor
Nor do you understand mine.
We’re still going Dutch in the restaurant,
And I’ve once only asked you
If we should move together (Won’t do this again).
The only thing we really enjoy as a pair
Is the excess.
Don’t believe everything you see in the Internet.
Some things are only there
In order to disturb you.
Just lean back and relax.
I don’t mind your smoking,
We’re lost anyway.
So let us
And the few ones
There is a (private) reason why I didn’t flood you with pictures today, and there’s a reason hidden in the system, too. Our world has become ‘pornified’ that much that the worth of a single pornographic picture has dropped to zero. This is not only true in the Internet world: especially in winter the cities are filled with hot advertisements such as young, lightly clad women advertizing for anything possible. Especially the fashion industry has learned a lot from erotic and pornographic photography, which has reaulted in a plethora of sexually charged images throughout public spaces.
Mental Cinema is a pornographic blog, and I’m quoting my sources, so I’m having my share in this pornographic overload. However, I’m trying to put emphasis on the single picture: I’m telling a story, I get inspired and write a little poem, or I’m doing an analysis, because I’m still interested in what’s making us hot and why.
I won’t flood your stream, because I’m taking porn seriously, that’s why. And even if a porn pictorial is dumb and crappy, there’s sometimes this single image that’s worth a closer look. Even if it is porn; perhaps because it is
I’m calling this sophisticated porn: Enjoy. Continue reading
Mental Cinema is relentlessly trying to explore the secrets of porn and to mediate about the epic question of what’s making us hot and why.
But we sometimes have to fuck that asshole. Only if you know the rules you can break them. We need it, we want, and we’re doing it. At least sometimes.
Ally N., Nena
Yeah, so it’s right, baby!
Put the toy in your playing venue,
And let my playing piece discover your play den.
That’s a kind of game I can handle, it’s a win-win. Continue reading
When you’re playing the slut
And I’m playing your gent
I sometimes wished
We’d swap our roles.
I’m going to suggest that
I often wonder what you see in me.
It must be a strange twist
There can’t be another reason.
What kind of party would we have if I and my followers (or the folks I’m following myself) would meet in real life? Would it be nice? Who brings the drinks? Would we use condoms?
What makes others run away
Is shaking you with great delight.
Where others start to cry,
You are crying for more.
Lady, who are you?