The call

Sex may be considered normal to the standards of others, but the call from within is too great, and I loathe it with every fiber of my being. What my body demands is not something I want and yet it consumes me, traps me into a space with no breathing room and no means of escape. Masturbation does not satisfy the hunger for long, it's like trying to fill up a bottomless pit. And no matter how I feel in the end, every time I am forced to feed the monster whose appetite cannot be satiated, I am left utterly empty as pieces of me slowly decay. It makes me wish I could puke until I died from it. Imagine having a siren blaring inside your head - unwarranted and unpredictable - and it's volume is loud that the only way to silence it is to give in or bash your head against the wall. Many, many people don't give this call any thought because they were easily enticed and desensitized. Though I envy their immunity to the agony, I am grateful that I am not a willing slave to a soul-sucking leech.