[beppe]

When in love I do not need anything else that being with, in all possible ways, the closer the better. I like the obsession, the search for more, the all out, the delirium.

Strange things? All that comes to mind, that can give us both pleasure and joy, that can increase desire and help transcend. That makes us both laugh. I am not good with pain neither giving nor receiving it, so of that I know nothing, but of laughs yes, and of joy, and of letting go all the way all that I could imagine and a little more. And there is so much that I have not tried yet ... Extraneous substances? I do not dig those anymore, although I remember a tiny Berkeley purple that made me into a white horse running wild over a green expanse of gently rolling hills and an other time a small fish swimming upstream in a lazy river, until the warm waters and the fish found a pond were we played with splashing and being splashed to our content. The open window stills are painted of white, the sky is blue and the air brings spicy memories of faraway places. Suddenly the street is silent, nobody dares to emit a sound not to break the magic that we have given to us all.

Age? No effects whatsoever. It was like that when I started as a young kid, so in love that my mother had pity of me and managed to call her to come to the house and have tea. Yes, my mother she was really nice. That is how it started and I was maybe 13. Nothing going except a broken heart. With time it gets better as means and understanding increase. One remains greedy, maybe even more, but learns to take it by smaller bytes and sips so that nothing is wasted and it last longer. With age things tend to become simpler, undiluted, purer in the sense that if we watch a movie that we do, and if we discuss poetry is for enjoying the poetry and not for other reasons. Body decadence? I am lucky, no signs of it yet.

So much for being in love, myself. For your other questions, about the themes you want to touch, let me briefly check them out

older women younger men. A story, now that I remember there were three, more summer things than stories (I have to stop remembering but they keep coming up: when I was a young boy in college I was even more handsome than now - if possible - and attracted them like an honey pot, but I have to stop now, they are already 6 and I am not proud of all of them), an almost story, that I do regret to have not followed. I was stirred but ... afraid? out of my depth? who knows. And now I remember an other one that I do not want to think about. Yeah I was not such a nice person way back. Just two but much more than stories the way around.

friends with benefits, oh yes how nice, how healthy, how simple, how comfortable, too bad that there is no ground for passion, and without passion, what's the point. It is just lust. If there is the chance of passion they are very dangerous indeed. Big troubles ahead.

unlikely pairing that breaks rules, hearts and illusions of reality; maybe unlikely, but I do not have rules, I have a breakable heart and live of illusions, so that could be my story, in a general sense.

love relationships vs. relationships built on convenience and social status; not my cup of tea.

good people loving bad people. Neither. I have been very lucky.

As a close I can contrast my initial statement with a new concept, for me, a sort of cultural revolution, that I am considering. That of quiet intimacy as alternative to the emotional tempests of my sentimental life up to now. How to trade in some of the intemperance and delirium for more depth and intensity. It might become my new look.