Not sure if it's the word, or the sound of it, or what it actually is, but I suddenly felt the urge to write a part about "shagging"! Well, we are now at London Victoria and I have to take a break.
No more tunnels. well I think we have got lots of words to describe all but the same thing, and I'm not sure why there are so many words in the English language. It certainly is something which is related to the culture of freely and openly talking about what might be taboos in other languages. And incidentally, how come there are so many words for this act of sexual intercourse? Anyway, I think this is something that might help me sell my book and get rich. Yes, that's it. A little bit of sex and there you go; you suddenly hit a best-seller. But how can I write about something when I haven't any faintest clue!
Well, I'm back on the train on my way back home and maybe it's a good opportunity to do some research about shagging! A gentleman with many years past him, is sitting opposite. Next to him is a pregnant lady who is probably near the happy day. The day that starts with her fatal pain and a baby's joyful cry. The day that is no ordinary day for her or the baby for the rest of their lives. And a day, oh dear ... The first tunnel. Let's get back to shagging. Yes, I asked the gentleman quietly, "would that be all right if I had a chat with you about a topic of research I'm working on?!" And he replied, "by all means!" So I started:
- "do you think talking about sex is still a taboo in our country?"
--"well, I guess it is; I see more on tv and hear on the radio, youngsters, and even the war generation. All feel more comfortable with the issue. "
- "do you think it's a good thing to happen, I mean, talking about it, not itself!"
-- "I think it is. What's the difference? We talk about food, climate, politics. Sex is a fact too. So we can talk about it."
The lady next to the gentleman looked at us and there was a message in her eyes that I couldn't read but didn't look very happy anyway. So I thought I would double check with her. So I asked, "does our conversation bother you?" And she replied, "of course not! I'm just waiting to hear you two get to the details of the act to learn more about it!" I didn't at first get the sarcasm, but the old man who was certainly offended at this point, said loudly, "you don't need to learn anything! You must have had a good shag!" And he got a slap on his face! "That's it," I thought to myself. "That's the end of my research." They kept on arguing, while I quietly said, "this is my stop, I have to alight, and sorry to have caused any trouble", and I sneaked out.
I got on the next carriage; there weren't many seats left as it was the peak hour. I took a seat next to a middle aged lady who was quickly typing on her laptop. A couple were talking and whispering and kissing and God knows what, sitting opposite us. They were probably in their early 20s. No one was free to answer my questions. So I started to think about myself. And by the way, there was just another tunnel, but I'm on the right track! I'm so proud of myself! But why? Why am I so proud of myself? Maybe because I am good looking, or intelligent, or a successful writer? Oh dear, 'successful writer' reminds me! Get back to shagging. I mean not the act itself, just writing about it. But why not itself? Well, it was happening there and then right in front of me, just that it wasn't overtly done; the boy looked very excited and the girl was breathing rapidly, blushed in the face, with erect nipples that could be seen through her top. They were now whispering even more quietly with longer French kisses. The boy was pushing his leg between the girl's legs and looked a little bit shaky. So in a blink of an eye, they both raised and rushed to the toilet; they both went in, and cam back out after a few minutes, the boy proudly looking around as if he had just conquered the Everest and, and the girl, well, maybe looked a bit embarrassed for a bit, but started to talk about her last holiday and what she had done with her girl friends while in Ibiza, partying every night and doing 'fucking' crazy stuff! Now I was getting curious about this 'fucking crazy stuff'! What does that mean?! Well maybe I write my next part about that, but this is getting too boring, I know I know. Well, I promise I get to the interesting parts very soon. Just don't be disappointed. Bear with me, there shall be peace! Well, at this point, passing through another tunnel, I remember our topic was shagging and I was going to research about that. But there are lots of more interesting topics, which are less sensitive too. Yeh, it's safer. Let's write about 'fucking crazy stuff''!
