















Missing the Vibrations
A long time ago, I slipped into this abandoned sawmill, where the machines stood tall and still—towering, rusted hard things that reeked of forgotten heat and power. They were massive, all muscle and metal, frozen mid-thrust, like they'd been interrupted right before release. I traced my fingers over thick chains, greasy levers and big round pipes, teasing their edges, feeling them almost hum and vibrate beneath my touch. The silence wasn’t empty—it was pulsing, watching, waiting for release. Surrounded by all that raw, aching machinery, I couldn’t help but let my body press against the cold, hard steel. I took my time…and for a while, I swear they wanted me as badly as I wanted to play with those huge, vibrating machines.
Have a great day and even greater weekend my friends.😉😁🥰