The grim, uninteresting town woke up in the morning, with a „fache” face, and a couple of weird wrinkles from the stiff pillow. He drank his coffee. At the point of remembering the uninteresting deeds he needs to do today, he noticed a woman in bed and found her presence equally boring (as the deeds he needs to do today).
He takes Spanish lessons for older people who have nothing better to do. There, someone mentioned the word „correrse”, which means to come and he couldn’t remember the last time he did – so for the past days he had sex with the woman. The sweetie even faked orgasm a couple of times, trying to make him come. Then, the grim, uninteresting town masturbated, and during that, he fathomed that she never had orgasm, since she was with him. The only difference was that now she wasn’t sufficiently enthusiastic about faking it. He understood that there is no true mirror in the world, to show the meaning of „uninteresting” and that makes it difficult for him to picture himself and how he interacts with others, with the woman in particular.
He asked a friend pornstar and his teenage daughter from the second failed marriage what was the thing about sex. In secret, he was hoping it was something unknown and that it would be the revelation that was missing from his life. The first said sex was no big deal, more of a routine. The second said sex was no big deal, most guys wanted it badly and she couldn’t understand why they would always go to war for 10 minutes of glory.
„Who dictates the story of sex?” asked the uninteresting, grim town on the forum where many towns gathered. He got a few answers, but it was all the same. Sex is no big deal. And because he didn’t know them, as he did his pronstar friend and his daughter, the uninteresting, grim town concluded that it was the mind who dictates the story of sex.
He wrote a parable:
I took a man to a restaurant in the southern part of the Pelopones, and gave him a plastic cup with heavenly ambrosia. Told him they were out of Coca Cola. The guy said it was ok. But he asked me if I was sure they didn’t have any Sprite at least. Then I talked to a man in an army canteen, sliped him a metal bottle with fresh water and a bit of sugar. Told him it was something I got from an old Indian shaman a few years back, who said it was „the Elixir”. The guy drank just a sip and his face was illuminated. He told me that it was the most extraordinary thing he had ever experienced.
After writing his parable, the grim, uninteresting town returned home and went to sleep next to the woman. During the night, he had sex with her and he saw that her face was illuminated, and went on and on until she bit him and she screamed and she called divinity and she called her soul and she could no longer see darkness and the room within, just his face. Then he realised all those around him had a problem with semantics. Or maybe only he did. But either way, they were wrong, all of them. And as the grim town quietly took the woman in his arms, to sleep, she said to him – „you are the most extraodinary thing I have ever experienced.”