Written with self-conciousness

All day long, if I don't have anything that I have to do or any distractions that are really hard to ignore, I visualize.
I think about food and sex all day. Not together, I'm not that adventurous, but those are pretty much it. In the mornings, I think about sleep. Sometimes I worry about the shit that I just did/have yet to do or judge the people around me. What I mean is, I don't sit in class all day just mindfucking myself with the joys of learning, even when I get a few minutes to think or read. No grand epiphanies while pouring over Dostoevsky. No composure gained from becoming alligned with the beauty of the universe by meditation. No deep, tremendous reverberations of understanding garnered while alone with my own thoughts. I just think about the feelings. The tastes. The endorphins exploding inside of me. The satisfaction being fulfilled. My bodily needs are my primary concern. All day long, I think about food, sleep, and sex.
I thought about my perfect day. I did for a while and I realized these were the three key elements in it. I would wake up, stay in bed until I could no longer deal with myself, take to the mirror and dab paint on my face as I pleased and then I would cook for a bit. I wouldn't make anything elaborate, I'm not that much of a glutton. Probably just pie. Fucking pie. God, there's no creation by man that gives me more pure enjoyment. Except for cupcakes......god, you know what, I'd just make fucking baked goods then eat them almost until I hated myself.
After I eat for too long, sleep for too long, or even just go too long without doing anything productive, I get this huge wave of self-loathing that doesn't really go away until I do something that seems useful. Its best if its something I don't enjoy that much. Only then do I feel self-worth. But this is a perfect day. Its no time for my silly little, fucked up masochism habit. After I shoved my stupid little chubby whore baked goods in my stupid little chubby whore face, I'd get an oppourtunity to have sex with somebody.
I can't really describe sex, I've never had it and I don't like to read erotica or watch porn. I know the dynamics of it I guess. I just lie there and moan, right? Hah. Hah. Hah.
But really, I don't know how to describe it, I just know that I want it. All the fucking time. I guess I know what sort of person I want it with. Skinny/muscular. Intellegent but not necessarily booky. Nice eyes, nice lips. Social but reserved. Kind of punk rawk/hipstery sort. Fairly attractive genitalia I'd willingly put my face up against. Wants to fuck me and tells me that they want to fuck me. That would be lovely. Just take all of the energy my body's been holding in and slam it against them over and over again. Its nothing but a biological need. If you go too long without it when you want it, you become physically worse off. To fuck is nothing beautiful. Its ugly if anything. Its a mishmash of genitalia rather then a beautiful intwinement of souls, isn't it? Sure there's emotions that come with it (damn hormones) but like......fuck them. No emotions on my perfect day.
After that, I think I'd just stop moving. I wouldn't exactly pass out, my mind and body would just agree to chill and not do anything anymore. Almost as much as I like being asleep, I like being dormant. That feeling you get when you're at peace, pretty much awake but just lying around. The physical warmth is delicious, its really beyond anything else for me. My perfect day would have that, maybe some cuddling, then sleep.
Sleeping itself is one of my fucking favorite things, not because I am necessarily lazy (although I guess I am if I can't find anything to do), but because when I'm sleeping, thats the only time I really forget about everything thats bothering me. I can't be worried or afraid or sad or hateful or right or wrong when I'm asleep. I'm just gone. The rest of the world isn't just put on hold when I'm asleep, it straight up doesn't fucking exist. Maybe there is some sort of spirit realm and you visit it to a very tiny extent when you're asleep. Thats always how I'd hope the afterlife would be. Just an idyllic sense of peace and total satisfaction in mind and body.

I wonder what my perfect day would be like if I didn't have any urges. Probably something about my death.