Eric laughed and commented on the fact that I've had quite a few boyfriends lately, and that I had quite a reputation. I giggled and said that it was ...retty much true. Some where in my life I just became obsessed with sex. I was telling him how I had a lot of sex with guys and I noticed that as I was driving, he started to get a little hard. He had on his basketball shorts, which made it very visible and very hot to me. He grabbed his hoodie which was on the seat next to him and tried to. It was like through an interior fog I knew them to be true, that that was really me, but as hard as I could, I could not place who they were, their names, or anything about them. I started thinking about me. What did I know about me. I knew I existed. I knew I had a mind and a general perception of reality and how the world worked, but I didnt know who I was. How could I know what a whore was if I didnt know who I was? How could I be attracted to myself? Was there some general notion of beauty. More

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