Everybody's a Priest

It seems like nowadays everybody’s an ordained priest. I know I am. It’s not a question of why, of course. Being a priest is a pretty sweet gig: Your opinions carry more weight, people listen to you, people have to be nice to you, and you are licensed to administer unannounced true/false black/white spot-check tests to strangers on the street. The question, I suppose, is that if there are so many priests, whom are they priesting to? Where are their churches? Where can their crazy ideas come from?
I had a dream last night and it took place at a large, rural property. There was at least one hot tub. I jumped in but made no splash, and almost no waves. [Girl] was hanging around the property and she wouldn’t go upstairs because she was trying to quit smoking. [Ex-girlfriend] was off in the distance wearing a bright yellow blouse. I did not attempt to approach her or make eye contact. I was on my way to do laundry, though I had no detergent and was forced to turn back, along with my cloth wrapped clothes.
I wonder why I’m so drawn to beautiful girls? Not necessarily magazine-defined beautiful, either, but girls whom I believe to be very pretty, who I would like to look at for a long time. I mean, it’s impossible for me to really have them, priest or no, possession is impossible. The only conceivable solution is consumption, and I have no interest in becoming a serial killer or a cannibal.
I just want to be close to them, maybe lick their face or feel their breasts in my hands or against my chest. Sex is perhaps an attempt to get as close as possible, to deeply touch beauty and in return be touched by it. There is some feeling of incompletion, of a need to be affected and altered by the beauty of a woman or even just the fantasy of one. It’s quite a bit of trouble, quite a source of suffering, this search for a palpable beauty and the attempt to somehow own it or control it or at least influence it with your words and actions. A strange thing indeed.