Fuckbuddies and Corporate Slaves

I'm the slightest bit tipsy, which is the only reason why I'm writing. Because when one is the slightest bit tipsy it is the only time when one really does what one really wants.
So I've decided that I want to be the slightest bit tipsy, and while am doing that, I might as well write.

I heard the word fuckbuddy recently. A friend told me he'd been introduced to people as some one's fuckbuddy.
Wow. Fuckbuddy- a grand, apt and self-descriptive word.

I've been a fuckbuddy. But am not sure how I'd react to being introduced as his fuckbuddy. Since when did sex become so commonplace that I'd want to be declared to the world as a sextoy? Well, it's been a while maybe since the world got there, but I'm not there yet.

But it's an exciting word: it's strong, brave. It's outrageous and scandalous. It's honest and brazen. It's hardcore.

It's a concept and idea that we're apparently embracing easily. No strings attached - Flings - Fuckbuddies.

I guess it makes things easy for everyone. I'm sure men have no objections to fuckbuddies. And women, on the other hand, can save themselves the heart-break of being subjected to fake wooing and lies.

Or maybe, its just a mature way of dealing with life and time. If you haven't found someone you care enough about wanting to spend the rest of your life with, there's no need to turn chaste.
But then again, I'd like to give the term some more volume. If I was a fuckbuddy, I'd still want to enjoy my fuckbuddy's company and be able to have a conversation with him. No daily phone calls, and no asking where you are and what you're doing. Let's just enjoy each other company when we can and have fun while we're doing it.

That's enough brainwidth spent on fuckbuddies.

Meanwhile, there's another term that I've had just under my skin for a couple of months now.
The Corporate Slave.
When I first thought of the term, I used it in a derogatory manner. Or maybe teasing, taunting. I didn't ever want to be one myself. It's not a bad thing in its own way, anyone who wants to be a corporate slave should be one. He'd make lots of money and generally have a satisfactory life. Or at least till the cholesterol evil got him, but that's not pertaining to this blog.

So, I didn't want to be a corporate slave. I wanted to be an artist. A modern artist, as I like to imagine. Just a vagabond. A film maker. Photographer. Author. Yea, that's what I want to be. Like 60 million others.

And so now I'm scared and for good reason too. I'm as close to being an artist right now as winning a Pulitzer for this blog. I'm a Corporate Slave.
I keep saying it to myself. I joke about it to others, and we all laugh. I'm trying to scare myself. I am scared, goddammit. But fucking can't do anything about it. Yet.