If you have ever watched a film on Ifeelmyself , you know it isn’t about performance. It isn't about angles or scripted moans. It is about the moment a woman forgets the camera exists. It is about the solitary, sacred act of a hand trailing down a ribcage just because it feels good. It is about the unobserved observer.
I looked at my reflection in the dark screen of my laptop after finishing the berry. There was a smear of red at the corner of my mouth. My hair was falling in my face. I looked slightly feral. I looked alive. strawberry ifeelmyself
Eat it like no one is watching.
I let the juice dry on my fingers. I closed my eyes. For thirty seconds, there was nothing else in the universe except the texture of that fruit on my tongue, the acid at the back of my throat, and the quiet, radical act of . If you have ever watched a film on